


Hydra Brings People Together

by GeorgeCantWrite



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Torture, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Hurt Pietro Maximoff, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Science Experiments, Violence, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:45:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorgeCantWrite/pseuds/GeorgeCantWrite
Summary: Pietro's body was taken away and the next thing Pietro knows is there's pain in his chest and there's some guy with a metal arm who looks like he needs a hug - if he also didn't look like he would kill you if you tried.Whatever, Pietro will get better and break free. Or rather, that's his general plan. Turns out it's not as easy as you think.





	1. Hydra sucks

Pietro wasn't sure what hurt the most; seeing Clint's terrified face or the physical wounds that littered his body.

Regardless, everything in his world ended up hurting about one millisecond later.

They say that for thirty seconds after you die, you can still feel, hear and think. He could hear and feel Clint checking for his pulse, talking to the Captain about how Pietro had died and how he then took Pietro's body to the large jet thing he wasn't entirely sure of its name. He'd gone into nothingness when he felt Clint touch his face.

Everything was dark for a long time, he was swimming in nothing, he _was_ nothing. He tried to think about his sister, his parents, even that Clint Barton he had given his life for. He didn't want to forget, to be in the darkness all alone. Being alone was something that had never happened to Pietro; throughout his life he had always had Wanda, the one constant that had never left him. And now he was the one who had left her, left to join the darkness whilst she was made to live her life without him.

He had left her; done the worst of the worst. They had promised to never leave each other, to make sure that if they ever did, they would fight tooth and nail to get back to each other; to make sure they would always be together through thick and thin. And now he had failed.

He wasn't too sure about time - what was spent thinking about his sort of friend Clint and his sister and parents. He really wasn't. He spent what felt like an eternity or two going over the memories of his childhood, before the bomb. Then he spent what felt like an eternity thinking about each and every intricate detail about the day the bombs came down, the exact font and colouring of the name STARK printed on the side of the bomb that had sat mere feet from his and Wanda's faces.

When he next regained actual consciousness in the actual world, instead of the ones he had imagined, it started just how it ended. Painfully.

There was something sticking in his neck, so he let out a panicked yelp. Then was promptly screaming, his body flailing against the restraints that were holding him down to a table that made memories flash in his mind.

He felt like he was being stabbed in multiple parts of his body, his chest aching as he felt new scar tissue pulling tightly as he writhed on the cold metal table. When he opened his eyes, the lights were blinding, so bright - _so bright_ \- and he felt his retinas burning. Or was it his corneas? He wasn't too sure but his eyes were hurting and honestly that was the least of his problems.

Pietro could feel his body being injected with things he wasn't sure of, his body convulsing when the liquids made it into his bloodstream or wherever else they were destined to go. It felt like his whole body was on fire, could feel the fire coursing through not only his veins, but also his arteries. He wasn't sure what was going on, what was happening to him. There was distant whirring, voices talking incoherently and there was something being pulled over him, shading his aching eyelids.

Some new pain pulled him to reality, ripping raw screams from his throat, tearing through him in a way that felt awfully similar to those bullets he had taken for Barton. He felt like he was being forcibly x-rayed, like he was being torn apart each time the rays went through him.

The pain was unbearable and he knew he was begging for the pain to stop, for them to leave him alone, let him go, let him sleep. He didn't know how many times he fell between the languages he vaguely knew, begging for it to stop. He had to try; get them to realise it was bad and that it was hurting. Why wouldn't they listen to him? Did they enjoy seeing him hurting like that? Spasming on that stupid table as whatever else they injected in him took affect. He lost consciousness several times and he was thankful for that; he had breaks between the torture, letting him calm down before his mind was woken and his body would send him through more pain, reacting to the things forced inside him.

At points, he felt like he was choking and only when did he hack out a harsh cough and was able to taste the metallic iron that was blood did he realise how badly his body was coping with the experiments that were being forced upon him.

There was a brief pause between the experiments and he was left laid on the table, tied down by restrains on his chest, legs and arms. He could see the different syringes, filled with liquids that varied in colour from orange to black. Had they put those in his body? There were some doctor-looking equipment that were covered in blood, which was probably his. He couldn't bring himself to be bothered by it. Pietro's body was aching and hurting so much that all he wanted to do was sleep.

Before Pietro knew it, he was crying, the tears dripping onto the table he was securely strapped on, soft plinking noises emitting whenever they landed on their mark.

How did this happen? Where was he?

He wanted Wanda.

Pietro wasn't usually one for crying, or showing emotions unless they involved being snarky or being an asshole to people (namely Clint Barton). It wasn't long after did the experiments start up again, only this time it was much worse than it had been ever before.

 

* * *

 

 

When he next woke up from his blank state of unconsciousness, he found that he wasn't on the stupid metal table. Instead he was in a cell.

He wasn't too sure which would be better, but at least he was having an extended break from the torture he had endured for who knew how long.

Pietro looked around his cell. It was pretty standard for the evil-probably-Nazi-bastards that had kidnapped him. Kidnapped his corpse? Had they revived him? Brought him back to life? He wasn't too sure and didn't really feel like finding the answers to those questions. The cell was grey and the too small bed was also unsurprisingly the same colour. The clothes he had been donned with were a shade or two darker in the grey that consumed his cell but he didn't care much. _Meh, at least there is some difference in the style around here,_ Pietro thought vaguely as his eyes wandered around the cell for what felt like the millionth time that minute.

It probably was.

He groaned to himself as he tried to sit up, his bones aching as he tried to get them to move. His body felt too heavy and distorted. He looked down at himself and saw some slight changes, frowning to himself.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing his fingers on the tense muscles in his arm. His body didn't feel right, like it had grown too much during his time being conked out. His face felt weird as well, as if the skin had tightened and his stubble had grown more.

How long had he been out?

Pietro sighed before rubbing his hands over his face, the pressure welcome as it somewhat woke him up. His eyes felt tired and old and if he had the energy to, he would joke to himself that he was steadily becoming Clint Barton. But he couldn't. He didn't have the energy.

Pietro always had energy.

What had happened to his powers? Did the people who experimented on him manage to take them away? He was confused and looked down at his hands, feeling panic settling deep in his chest. Those powers were a part of him, had been for so long now. He couldn't imagine life without them, they'd helped him do so much in the time he had them. Now he was stuck possibly being powerless and trapped with no way to get out. He couldn't be himself without those powers; they had become a deep part of him, just like Wanda, only slightly different. They were what made Pietro _Pietro_. Without them, he was nothing. There would be nothing special about him without them.

He was fucked.

Pietro leant against the cell wall, his eyelids fluttering shut momentarily before he realised something was off. Frowning, he turned his head to the left and saw through the weird metal looking bars was a man in all black Kevlar. Was it Kevlar? It looked like some straitjacket from the fifties or something, only leather and in ... well ... Kevlar. Pietro barely had the energy to raise his eyebrow at the man that was staring at him unblinkingly.

"Fuck you, fuck you and every last fuck ugly bastard here," Pietro said, despite his throat feeling raw, like someone had forced sandpaper down his throat and tore the flesh away. He had himself to blame - he had screamed so much in those experiments and who knew if he would be properly hydrated ever again?

The man didn't answer, didn't even react to Pietro talking. Pietro didn't mind. He let out a sigh and coughed, his throat protesting.

"Hey, when am I going to get hospitality? It is common courtesy, no?" This didn't get a response out of the man either. Pietro sighed and licked his lips slightly before analysing the man as best he could. The man had long hair, up to around his shoulders, and bright blue-grey eyes that suited him strangely enough. His hair framed his face just right and made his eyes seem that much more brighter and more clearer. The stubble that had covered the man's jaw - over a few days or weeks - helped to make his eyes -

Pietro stopped thinking about the stupid man watching him, eyes so bright and intriguing. He was being creepy. Even if he did look good.

"Hey, how am I alive? The last thing I remember was being shot to death," Pietro said, wincing as he stood up, limping as he tried to get used to the weight on his bones and how glass-like his bones felt. He slowly approached he man, his eyes curious as he looked at the man who hadn't moved an inch. "Can you even talk?" Pietro asked, his winces turning into frowns as he stared at the man who stared right back. His whole body was protesting, telling him to lay back down, but his curiosity got the better of him and he needed to find out as much as possible about where he was. His aching body would just have to wait.

It was unnerving, how this man just _stared_. Did he not know how to be a basic human?

Well. It was time for Pietro to up his game.

"Who even works here?"

"What is the reason for being around here?"

"Why is there only grey in this fucking cell?"

"Who are you?"

"Where is this place exactly?"

"America? It cannot be America that is too generic,"

"Russia? Nyet, that is too obvious as well."

"Can I have some food?"

"Or even a drink?"

"Hey, I do need more calories or whatever more than your average human, I could die if I do not get the right amount -"

The man ripped open the cell door and promptly stalked in, advancing on Pietro who was standing there in shock as he stalked towards him, hair shadowing his face, making him look all the more menacing.

His hand - holy shit is that metal? - was on Pietro's throat. It wasn't soft and nor was hard. He had enough so that he could at least breathe slightly.

"Soldier!"

The hand pulled away from Pietro's neck and he slouched down the wall slightly, eyes wide as his heart sped in his chest. The man towered over Pietro but did not move, his whole body tense with his head half cocked to the side, like he was trying to look at the person talking to him but trying to keep an eye on Pietro who was too scared to try and find out if his powers were still with him.

This guy had a freaking metal hand! Who knew what else other crazy bullshit he had. For all Pietro knew, this guy could have been some sort of cyborg that killed people in their holding cells whenever they asked too many questions.

Pietro did have to admit it was kind of his own fault; he did keep asking questions nonstop. That had to get annoying after a while.

"He is to not be harmed,"

"I think your experiments broke that rule already," Pietro muttered and the man - the Soldier? - turned to him and gave him a stare so unnerving Pietro thought his heart had stopped.

Oh, Pietro was _so_ fucked.

"He is to be like you soon. An Asset. A fellow Yasha." the man said before laughing slightly. "You may be Yasha, but he is Navin. You may live forever, but he shall be the one who brings new beginnings,"

"I will not be this bullshit you think I will be. Nyet," Pietro said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fuck you," Pietro spat. Yasha - or whatever - appeared to not like how Pietro was talking to this agent guy and grabbed him by the throat and gave him a glare that sent shivers down his spine.

"Solider, stand down. He does not know yet. Give him time. You will be training him soon enough, he needs to learn like you did."

Pietro didn't like what this prick was saying. Not one bit.

He was silently praying to every god - even Thor - that someone would find him, that Wanda would realise he was still alive (or that Thor would somehow miraculously hear his prayer and come save him whilst lighting every fucker up), but deep down he knew it was hopeless. He had only himself and he had to try and get out of the place somehow. He needed to or else he would be royally fucked and if he really wanted to get out, he'd have to play along with what these bastards wanted and find his opening and run for it - run faster than he ever had in his life. He needed to, if he wanted to see Wanda again, make her smile again.

"Where is Captain America when you need him?" Pietro asked quietly and then there was a fist in his stomach. Well, not really. But he was being beaten up. He could feel the hits on his tender bones, feeling the cracks begin as the metal and flesh met his own body. He let out a little whine of pain as he curled up, trying to lessen the impact of the blows.

There was distant yelling and then before he knew it, Yasha was being taken away from him, body limp as they dragged him away. Pietro was vaguely aware of them yelling 'Sputnik' or something along those lines before having dragged Yasha away. The door to his cell shut and he groaned before he dragged himself onto his bed a few minutes later, not moving as the pain that coursed through him left him feeling like every bone in his body had broken. There felt like there was something moving inside him and he could have sworn it was his own bones moving back into place, fixing themselves, but the pain that had been surrounding him left him immobile. When he did manage to get to the bed, his body was screaming its protests, his limbs aching as he forced them to move. As soon as his had touched the uncomfortable bed, he passed out.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up, his head was hurting, but there was food beside his bed, a glass of water next to the food.

Huh.

He took the food first, sniffing it and nibbling, trying to see if the food had been poisoned or filled with more scary liquids that were altering his body. He didn't detect any, but knew there most likely was some in, but he was too hungry so he scoffed the food down, feeling far too thankful. When he turned to get the water, he saw some boots at the cell door. Tentatively, he picked up the glass of water and sniffed it, trying to detect anything that wasn't right with it. He kept eye contact with Yasha, but found that Yasha was looking ... dazed? Pietro frowned as he took a sip of the water, his eyebrows furrowing together as he analysed Yasha.

Yasha's eyes were unfocused even though he was staring at Pietro. He still looked menacing, but he didn't look like he was with it. Pietro wanted to say something to Yasha, ask why he looked like he was high or something, but didn't. Yasha (or should he call him the Soldier?) kept looking at him in a way Pietro didn't understand; it was underneath the glare that made Pietro feel like he was going to piss himself and decided he didn't want to know. Instead, he kept eye contact as he took his time drinking the water that had been given to him.

Whatever. He had to play this shit out before he got out. He had to play this shit so that he could get out; to get back to Wanda, show her he was OK and be with her again, like they used to. He needed to get out, be with his sister, annoy Barton like he did for that short period of time again. He missed the banter between him and Barton, which was weird. Maybe it was because he had seen a father figure in Barton? No, that was illogical. Maybe it was because he saw Barton as a friend, or a brother? That had to be it. It was easy to annoy Barton, it was like teasing a younger sibling.

Man, he missed them.

Yasha stared at him for hours on end, blinking every so often, like he was reassuring Pietro that he was still alive and hadn't died looking at him. That'd be awkward.

Pietro had kept himself busy by testing his altered body, by moving, doing little exercises and burning off the energy that was steadily building itself back up. He wanted to ask Yasha a multitude of questions, but he could tell the Soldier was in no fit state. He wouldn't press for information when his mind wasn't all together. Despite his circumstances, Pietro wouldn't try and take advantage of him like that. Pietro was too nice like that. It'd get him killed some day if he weren't careful. With every movement, the Soldier's eyes never once wavered from their view inside of the cell. It honest to God terrified Pietro, but he did try his best to make sure that he didn't show it on his exterior. He knew that whoever had captured him would want to watch him break and he was determined to not give them that satisfaction.

And so he did what he could to stay healthy. He was given regular amounts of food, which was surprising enough. He guessed that they had taken a note that yes, his metabolism was much faster, as was the rest of everything else in his body. He would eat whatever they gave him, after trying to detect anything unusual. He'd never find anything that was unusual, Pietro knew they'd probably do something so that he wouldn't be able to detect it if they put shit in his system.

Whatever, they'd already done it before. What difference did it make if they put stuff in his food? The worst it could do was kill him.

Pietro was so desperate to run; see if he still had his speed. He had moments where he was sure everything was going in slow motion, but didn't want to alert them of this. He had to run, to make sure he still had what made him good at stuff. He wanted to use it and run away from them and find Wanda. Wanda was his priority, to see that he would be alive and well - or borderline coping with whatever the fuck they did to him. He had to; he needed to see her again, hug her and listen to her voice and watch as her bright eyes would light up even further and just make his day when the smile would reach her eyes.

Wanda was more or less his only hope, his only anchor to the world and he was intent on seeing Wanda again. Even if it killed him (again).

Yasha watched him when he went to bed. It scared Pietro and he tried not to show it, the guy had gone without any food all day, the only other people that he had seen were those weird probably Hydra agents that would glance at Yasha to make sure he wasn't about to kill Pietro. Pietro truly did try to avoid showing how scared he was, but when he looked up and saw his bright eyes staring back at him in the darkness, well, he couldn't help that he flinched. He couldn't even pass it off that he had shivered, he _was_ shivering, but the violent jerk back of the flinch had him almost topple out of bed.

Damn. Well, he'd have to up his game, set his face and bite the bullet (and avoid getting shot again) and get this shit over and done with and hope to God or whatever bullshit religion that Yasha wouldn't be there in the morning because he was sure as shit that he'd actually fall out of bed if he was.


	2. Torture 101

Pietro woke up to the sound of his cell door opening. When he looked up, he saw Yasha staring from the other side of the doors as several people dressed in strange clothes, doctors in whatever clothes they wear in operations and other people in dark Kevlar. Petro felt disorientated before hands grabbed him and dragged him out. His feet stumbled as he tried to get his footing. His body was weak and he could feel something churning in his stomach and he had to fight the urge to be sick everywhere. His limbs felt like dumbbells, weighing him down as he tried to move away from the other people. His movements were jagged and slow.

"Yasha?" Pietro asked, frowning as he followed Pietro and the other people who had surrounded him, forcing him forward. "What is going on?" Pietro demanded, turning his gaze on the people who had taken him.

"Nothing of your concern,"

"I think it is; I mean you are taking me somewhere I do not know about. The least you could do is tell me," Pietro countered. Yasha made a noise from behind him, before he pushed Pietro's back, making him move quicker.

"Just get it over with," Yasha said slowly, voice low. Pietro felt his heart leap into his throat when he heard Yasha speak. That was the first time he had ever heard Yasha speak. Pietro could feel his heart hammering away at his sternum when they got into a familiar room. It was like a hospital's theatre room, weird machines that Pietro couldn't recognise; they were things that he had never seen before, but he had managed to see something such as Ultron. Man, his life was a mess.

"Sit," a man instructed of Pietro, before he forced him down in a weird seat that had additional mechanical parts to it that Pietro didn't trust one bit. Yasha moved forward and strapped Pietro to the chair. Pietro noticed the soft way Yasha was shaking, how his grip tightened when he took hold of the restraints. Yasha looked up at him, catching Pietro's eye. Pietro saw something in his eyes that looked vaguely like sorrow. He felt himself feeling vaguely confused before there were several pin pricks on his body. His head whipped around as he looked at them, seeing different coloured liquids being injected into his veins. He felt fear bubbling up in his chest and he looked around at the people watching him.

"Let me out!" he demanded, flinching as the needles in his body pinched inside at the parts he hoped weren't vital.

They simply stared at him before he let out a shuddering gasp, his head rearing backwards as he let out a scream, throat feeling like it was being ripped apart. He screwed his eyes shut, letting out yells of pain as the injections took effect. His hands fisted themselves as his body tensed, tears welling in his eyes as the pain felt like white hot fire in his blood. The restraints on him felt like they were sinking into his flesh.

Pietro lost sight of how long he was like that, it could have been hours or minutes, but he knew they all watched him endure those injections. He barely managed to see Yasha wincing whenever he let out a scream, or when his body spasmed. Colours blurred his vision, tears streamed down his face. Pietro could feel himself being lost to something, like he was being pulled out of his mind, but he was still there. He hated it, felt the white hot pain inside his veins, wishing he had the ability to move past it, ignore it.

He couldn't.

So he screamed.

 

* * *

 

 

"Navin. Navin!"

Pietro jolted awake, his head feeling like lead. He looked at The Winter Soldier, or rather Yasha, and gave him a _'what the fuck?'_ look.

"Up," Yasha said, monotone.

"Why?"

"Don't question authority. Just do it,"

"You have authority?" Pietro asked and Yasha's blank face contorted before he forced Pietro down, metal hand on his collarbone, tensing his fingers in a way that sent short bursts of pain through Pietro's body.

"I do not question it. I'm an Asset. I do what I'm told."

"That's dumb," Pietro said and Yasha tilted his head slightly to the right, looking moderately like a confused puppy.

"Either that or they - wipe us," Yasha said and Pietro heard the slight stammer, felt the tense grip tighten momentarily. Yasha looked down at his hand before he let go of him, "Up. We have business to do," he stated and backed away from Pietro slightly.

"Fine," Pietro muttered and stood up, stretching before Yasha grabbed him and led him out of the cell. He stumbled but kept to Yasha's pace. "Where are we -?"

"Training," Yasha answered shortly, cutting off Pietro's question.

"Training?" Pietro repeated and saw Yasha's head dip in a short nod. "Sounds fun," he said, to which he got no reply. Instead, Yasha continued to lead him until he got to a large room.

Inside the room - or rather abused looking gym - were treadmills, a few boxing rings, punch bags and weights and dumbbells. Yasha led him to one of the rings, pulling out some weird tape-slash-bandages that Pietro could faintly recognise. Silently, Yasha taped his hands in the stuff before he handed over the remains to Pietro who took them with a tilt of his head in Yasha's direction. Once he had, Yasha swung under the ropes and stood up inside the ring and looked at Pietro expectantly.

Pietro sighed to himself before he went into the ring with him.

Yasha fell into a defensive position, one that Pietro noted was one Yasha fell into with ease. Pietro chewed at his lip before he went into one similar. Yasha sighed before he walked over to Pietro and shifted his feet with his own.

"You are not standing properly. Will damage you and makes you easy to take down," Yasha told him before he was satisfied with how his feet to shoulders width were. "You need to keep your left arm up; it is your defence for hits to the chest and face. Your fist has to be by your side, where your ribs are so that you can hit someone in the same area they're also blocking,"

"Then how do I hit them if they are blocking where I am hitting?" Pietro asked, daring to look up at Yasha's face.

Fuck, for a scary as fuck guy, he sure as shit was handsome as fuck. The whole murder-scowl and hell of a jawline worked wonders.

"You bring your right leg up from behind, balance on your left when you do, if that is the case. Hit directly on the knee as hard as you can and you will shatter the knee and break the leg," Yasha told him before he pulled away and made the motion. Pietro frowned slightly before he copied. "Nyet. Wrong," Yasha said before Pietro promptly let out a yelp as Yasha's hands went on his thigh and calf. He lifted his leg up and through the motion like Pietro wasn't holding onto his shoulder, looking rather terrified and awkward at the sudden contact. What the fuck had his life come to?

When Yasha pulled away, he went through the motion again. Yasha gave him a look before he heaved a sigh. "Is better," he informed Pietro and if he didn't look like a soulless bastard with the whole murder-scowl and pure blank eyes, Pietro would've said he looked fond. Pietro would also have said he was delusional because Yasha clearly didn't look fond and looked like he was just doing orders and getting shit out of the way.

Man, Pietro's mind was fucked up.

Yasha moved back to where he was and beckoned Pietro towards him.

"No speed," Yasha said and Pietro gave him an annoyed look before he tried to attack Yasha.

He ended up on the floor less than half a second later.

"Not fair," Pietro complained, not expecting a laugh or sigh at his comment. He didn't get one like he had assumed. "You are an assassin. I am not. If we are to do what those Nazi bastards want, you are supposed to train me to be like you, yes?"

"They want you to be different than me. Learn your fighting before applying your enhancement," Yasha said shortly, face becoming shadowed by his hair. Pietro would have told him to tie it up in a bun or something, but didn't particularly feel like being killed by Yasha just yet.

"My speed is like your metal arm," Pietro informed him and almost instantly regretted it. Yasha simply blinked at him.

"Enough talk. Back to the training," Yasha told him. Pietro felt confusion; Yasha had been talking a lot more and he didn't know why. Whatever, at least he had someone to talk to, even if that someone looked ready to kill him at any given moment.

Pietro ended up on the floor several times after. He didn't bother to keep count and didn't want to know if Yasha was. Pietro thought (whilst Yasha tackled him and put him in a choke hold) that Yasha was probably thinking of multiple ways to kill him, or others or maybe even how to manipulate someone to get information - maybe all of them at the same time - whilst he defeated Pietro again and again.

Of course, Yasha didn't take it easy on him and often hit him with his metal arm. In the gut. In the face. In the balls.

Pietro really hated the balls hitting. That hurt.

"Enough," a voice called over a tinny intercom after what felt like a decade or three of practicing with Yasha. Pietro felt his lead-like bones aching from the beating Yasha had given him.

Yasha wasn't even breaking a fucking sweat. Pietro was.

"We need Navin," the voice continued and Pietro had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't Navin, no matter what they said he was going to be. He turned to look at Yasha who simply stared back at him blankly. Did his expressions only vary from blank to murder-scowl? Yasha tore off those things on his hands before he grabbed Pietro's arm and dragged him out of the gym.

"Where -?" When Yasha turned around and gave him that look, stopping him in his tracks, he stopped asking questions.

He was going to hell. Well, it _was_ Hydra, it was bound to happen.

"Navin," a doctor said when they arrived. He smiled at Pietro in a way that was menacing and borderline psychotic. _This is Hydra_ , he reminded himself, _of course it's all psychotic_. "I would like you to get on that specialised treadmill there," he pointed to the huge machine in the middle of the room that looked nothing like a treadmill. "And just ... run. Run as quick as you can for as long as you can. Got it?"

"Unfortunately," Pietro muttered as a form of answer. He glanced around the room before he stepped up onto the treadmill. "I just run?"

"Yes. It will move with you at the speed you go. It records how fast you'll be going too. So just do it,"

With a final glance at Yasha, who was looking as blank as ever, but with that something lying underneath that expression, he turned his attention back to the treadmill and started running. He felt everything slow down, like nothing mattered any more. The only thing that mattered was the fact that the treadmill was managing to keep up with him. Pietro had to give it to them; for once Hydra did something right.

For what felt like hours, he ran. It was peaceful, therapeutic, let him feel free, even if he wasn't. Running was the one thing he was good at, was better than anyone else at, it let him feel like he was good at something. He didn't tire for a while, what could have been ten minutes to the normal human, felt like years before he began to slow down. When he came to a stop, he felt like he had done something stupid. Why had he done what they asked of him? He could have probably gone half his usual speed and they would have been impressed. Now they knew just how fast he could be. His chest was heaving as the treadmill slowed to a stop and he could feel the sweat dripping down his entire body.

"Impressive," a second doctor said, Pietro turned to look at them, trying to get the oxygen in his lungs. Pietro sat down on the treadmill, keeping his back straight, hands behind his head so he could get his breathing back to normal. His calves were aching, muscles tight. The doctors turned to write information down, babbling nonsense to each other. Pietro looked over at Yasha who was staring back at him.

"Do you have a name?" he asked between breathes. Yasha blinked.

"Yasha, Soldier, Asset. Those are my names. Choose," he answered.

"Hey! Navin!" Pietro grimaced before he looked at the doctors. "You do not talk to him. Don't ask questions. He's not supposed to answer."

"His is human, no?"

"He is an asset,"

"If he is an asset, why do you humanise him? Assets are _its_ , you refer to him as _he_. You humanise him," Pietro countered and the doctors shared a look whilst Yasha gave Pietro a look that Pietro didn't understand.

"He should be wiped and trained like the Asset." the first doctor said and Pietro didn't miss the way Yasha tensed up, eyes darting between the doctors and Pietro. Pietro looked at them, feeling panic rise in his chest.

From his short time there, he knew Yasha wasn't easily scared; so if something managed to instil feat in him like that, he knew it had to be bad. Yasha looked at the doctors before he nodded and walked towards Pietro. He held onto Pietro's shoulder with his metal arm, grip so tight it felt like it would break his bones. He pulled Pietro up so that he was standing and he dragged him out of the room. They ended up back in the lab with the strange chair with metal contraptions on it. He looked over at Yasha, but saw he was pointedly staring ahead, face void of emotions.

He pushed him into the seat as one of the doctors flipped a switch and restrains wrapped themselves around Pietro's body. He felt his heart hammering, trying to break out of its place. Pietro heard the whirring of the mechanics on the chair before it lowered itself over his head, covering part of his vision. His chest heaved quickly before the pain ensued in his head. It felt like it was about to split open and he tried to get away, body moving so quickly, but not enough to get him free of the restraints. He couldn't get free and the pain in his head was becoming too much.

And so he begged for death.

 

* * *

 

 

"Navin!"

Something pushed his shoulder. "Navin!" the voice repeated. He opened his eyes to come face to face with Yasha. He frowned before the headache rampaged through his head at full throttle. He groaned and shut his eyes, turning onto his side as he wrapped his arms around his head. The hand was back and yanked him up into a sitting position.

"My head hurts," Pietro complained. Yasha stayed silent. "Yasha?" he asked, looking at Yasha, who was staring into space. "What happened?"

"We don't ask questions," Yasha said, his words slow, almost slurred. Pietro frowned, that wasn't right. "We're Assets."

"I am no asset," Pietro said. Yasha turned his gaze on him and Pietro saw just how dead in his eyes he was. When Yasha didn't reply, he went to lay back down, but the metal hand that belonged to the other man stopped him.

"We train you," he stated.

"I am hungry," Pietro complained. "I need more food than others -"

"Because of your enhancement. I know. We train you,"

"We -"

"We train you and then food," Yasha said over him. Pietro sighed but nodded and let Yasha lead him out, back towards the gym.

Pietro tried to think about stuff, why he was there, what had caused him to be there and people.

"Wanda," he mumbled, stopping in his tracks. Yasha turned around to look at him, jaw tensed. "My sister. I do not remember my sister," he said and looked up at Yasha, eyes widening with horror. "I cannot remember my twin sister,"

"Navin -"

"I am not Navin!" Pietro snapped. "I am Pietro Maximoff, I volunteered for the Hydra experiments and got my powers from the sceptre. I .. I ... I do not remember," Pietro said, voice trailing off into nothingness as the information hit him like a truck. How could he forget?

How could he forget Wanda? Forget what she looked like. He couldn't remember his mother or father, the way his mother sounded when she laughed, cried or sung. The roughness in his father's hands, the way his stubble would tickle his head when he would kiss him goodnight. Why couldn't he remember any of this? Wanda, his dear sister, how could he forget what she looked like, sounded like? He had been with her all his life, and yet he could not remember what it was like to hug her and keep her close.

Why did he have to keep her close? Why had he been in those experiments?

"Navin," Yasha said, a warm hand on his arm. Pietro looked up, realised he had gone and stared into space, head bowed in horror and sadness. "We move on. We have to. Or bad stuff happens," Yasha told him simply.

"She is my sister and I do not remember what she looks like." he mumbled, feeling like he was trapped underwater, like ice had frozen over the surface and she was above. He was left with the blurry images, trying to fight his way to the surface, but the ice was too thick, too blurry for him to make any sense of it.

Why had this happened?

"We train you and then we figure out what happened," Yasha said, voice strangely reassuring for Pietro, even though it was dull, monotone.

Pietro felt the conflict rise inside him, but he fought it back down. All he had was Yasha, right? Yasha could help him.

"I do not remember much. Why am I like this?"

"Because you are an Asset," Yasha answered with a simple shrug of his metal shoulder. Pietro sighed before he nodded and allowed Yasha to take him into the gym. Pietro felt a vague sense of déjà vu. He wasn't sure why, so decided to push it to the back of his mind. He followed Yasha into the ring closest and held up his hands as fists, ready. Yasha looked at his pose and nodded before he fell into one Pietro felt like he should have recognised.

And then they fought.

It was harsh, quick and it fucking hurt. Pietro dodged Yasha's metal arm as best he could, trying to avoid the rest of his limbs too. He had to try and get a hit on Yasha. But then something happened inside him. It was like there was a burst of uncontrollable energy and it tore through him and before he knew it, he'd gotten Yasha in a chokehold. They were on the floor, Pietro's legs locking Yasha's arms in place, chokehold tightening. Yasha made a choking noise before he hit the floor of the ring three times.

"Not bad," Yasha said once Pietro had released him.

"I took you down," Pietro said, feeling an odd sense of pride swell in him.

"You showed your power too quickly," Yasha informed him as he stood up, holding out a hand to Pietro. Pietro frowned before taking it, feeling tentative. Yasha lifted him up and looked Pietro over. "You have the build of a runner, yes. But that is not easily recognisable. You could pass it off as being weaker. So you use your weaker state as an advantage. You can use your speed in your punches and kicks. Nothing too obvious," Yasha said, keeping eye contact with Pietro, who wasn't sure if he was comfortable or not with the act. "That makes your hits that much harder, that much more effective. Use your speed as a weapon. Only use it when they're going to shoot you, or when you're about to be captured. You do not need to use it all the time; that shows the enemy your full potential so that they are able to find a way to beat you,"

"Oh."

"So, let's start this again."

"You want me to hit you like you said?"

"Maybe. Keep it varied so that it would come as a surprise if you hit me harder than I expect," Yasha said and Pietro nodded and they both slipped into stances, ready to attack.

It was brutal, slow and long. They fought each other for hours, breaking out into sweat, but neither quit.

Pietro had to build up his stamina when he fought, so that he could defeat Yasha one day, time and time again.

Yasha twisted his arm behind his back and Pietro let out a sharp yell.

"You let yourself get distracted," Yasha told him, sounding like he was scolding the white haired man.

"Did not," Pietro lied. Yasha scoffed behind him. Pietro turned his head around to look at him, arm aching at the odd angle it was in.

"You have to concentrate on what your opponent. See where they tense, how they move and how they attack. They will go into a routine that is easy for them to do. So you figure out what that routine is and break through it and defeat them,"

"And you have routine?" Pietro asked when Yasha let go of his arm and let him stand. He rubbed at his wrist, turning his gaze on to Yasha properly. He could see the sweat on his face, making him practically _glisten_ -

Pietro cut off that quick trail of thought immediately. He had to concentrate.

"You will just have to find out, yes?" Yasha asked and Pietro rolled his eyes at the poor mock of his accent. "Like you; you hit twice with your hands before going with your feet. You dodge more than you hit too. But that may be because of this," Yasha flexed his metal arm, moving each finger individually.

"It works well, yes?"

"Like a normal one. Now back to it," Yasha said and Pietro nodded, grinning at Yasha who retuned it with more maliciousness.


	3. Lone Wolves

There were arms dragging Pietro forward. He felt disorientated, feeling his body being moved without his consent and he looked up to see weirdly dressed people dragging him forward. Before he knew it, he was forced into the chair he was becoming familiar with and before he knew it, there was pain in his entire being.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to regain consciousness, but he eventually came back into the land of the living.

"Navin,"

"I am not Navin," Pietro panted out, sweat dripping down his face as he stared at the doctors in front of him, eyes fierce.

"Wipe him again and try later," the doctor instructed and the machinery started up again. One of them held out the mouthpiece and he moved his head to the side.

He screamed.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Navin,"

"I - not - NAVIN!" Pietro yelled, his words feeling like broken glass in his brain. The doctors sighed before they nodded to each other and the contraptions on the chair whirred up again. The mouthpiece was held out to him and he looked between that and the others in the room before he leant over and took it in his mouth.

He screamed again. This time, it was muffled by the gummy plastic of the mouthpiece.

 

* * *

 

 

"Navin,"

"Not ... not him,"

"Again,"

His screams reverberated throughout the lab.

 

* * *

 

 

"Navin,"

"Fuck you,"

"Again,"

He screamed so hard he thought he felt blood in his throat.

 

* * *

 

 

"Navin,"

"Fuck ... you," he breathed out, feeling something dripping out of his mouth, his nose runny, tears in his eyes and sweat on his body. He refused to do this, he would not do this.

He was Pietro Maximoff, he was _Pietro_ -

"Again."

\- _Maximoff_.

He cried.

 

* * *

 

 

"Navin,"

He stayed silent.

"Navin," the doctor pressed. He looked up at him, frowning.

"I am ... Pie-Pietro Maximoff," he said uneasily, looking confused and conflicted. He wasn't sure. Was he Navin?

"Again,"

"How long until he will submit?"

"Not long. He will soon,"

 

* * *

 

 

"Navin,"

He stayed silent.

"Navin,"

"Yes?"

"Excellent." 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lights, blurred colours and shapes merged together, dropping in and out of darkness. He wasn't too sure of things. All he knew was that he was Navin and his counterpart was Yasha.

He and Yasha were practically the same thing.

Navin woke in some sort of cell, sort of bedroom. It was a light grey colour and the bed wasn't too uncomfortable, but wasn't too comfortable either. There was a sink with a mirror and a wardrobe a foot away from it. He sighed and tried to sit up, his body feeling heavy. Navin frowned, why was he like this? He didn't really know. He sighed to himself before he pushed the thought behind the weird emptiness in his mind and made to get to the sink.

He appeared there in less than a second later. He looked up at the mirror above the sink, seeing his shocked expression staring back at him.

"What?" he asked before there was a sharp pain in his head and memories of thanking Dr Malcolm for giving him his powers, for choosing him over the rest of them, giving him this godly gift. He had chosen Navin over Yasha to gift with unbelievable speed.

"Malcolm saved me," Navin told himself. "Saved me from the Avengers. Brought me back and gifted me," he said, feeling like there was something wrong. Navin shook his head, feeling the dull emptiness returning.

"Navin,"

He stood up, back straight and turned his head to look at the person who had called him.

Yasha.

"Yasha," he replied and he saw Yasha tip his head minutely in acknowledgement.

"They need you to practice," he told Navin who nodded, rubbing at his arms subconsciously. "You hurt?"

"No. Just feels heavy,"

"You will get used to it," Yasha said and Navin bit back his sigh. "You remember your skills?"

"All the sparring we did? Yes,"

"Good," Yasha said before he reached out and took Navin's hand and dragged him out of his weird room. He let Yasha drag him to wherever he was wanting to take him, he knew Yasha would never betray him.

They had always been there for each other, as far back as either could remember. They knew it.

"Yasha, Navin." Malcolm said when they entered.

Dr Malcolm was a balding white male, with a beginning to a pot belly, large beard and wore strange glasses that neither questioned. Malcolm looked strange in appearance, but he was the smartest man Yasha and Navin knew.

"Malcolm," Yasha said, releasing Navin's hand. Navin looked over at him from the corner of his eyes, but didn't say anything. Navin saw Yasha look over at him for less than a second, before he turned his attention back to Malcolm.

"Please, sit down boys," Malcolm said and the two did so without a second thought.

"Are they as the Soldiers?" a man behind Malcolm asked and Malcolm looked at the man before looking at the two sat down.

"Do the words,"

_"Желание,"_

Yasha and Navin twitched slightly, looking at each other, wondering what the fuck was happening.

_"Ржавый,"_

"Yasha?" Navin asked, his head aching as Yasha tensed up, breathing becoming shallow.

_"Семнадцать,"_

_"Рассвет,"_

_"Печь,"_

_"Девять,"_

_"Добросердечный,"_

_"Возрождение на родину,"_

_"Один ... грузовой вагон,"_

_"Доброе утро, Солдаты,"_

The two looked ahead blankly, eyes dead as they awaited their orders.

"Navin, Yasha. Your mission," Malcolm said, beckoning a man in black Kevlar tactical gear towards him. The man walked forwards, a thin file in his hands. He pushed it towards Yasha and Navin, Yasha taking it without a word. Navin edged closer to Yasha, peering over his shoulder, oblivious to the way Yasha moved closer to him and the scientist-doctors-handlers gave each other uncertain looks.

That wasn't part of their programming.

"Are you ready?" Yasha asked, nudging at Navin's arm. Navin nodded his reply. Yasha looked up at the handlers who turned and grabbed some clothing and walked towards them. Navin and Yasha stood up together, Yasha's arm pressed against Navin's. The handlers held out some clothes and they took them, changing in front of them, seeming to not care about their bodies being put on show momentarily for the handlers and others.

The clothes fitted Navin perfectly, the fabric unfamiliar and clung to him, covering every inch of him. It finished on his neck, underneath his jaw, stopped at his wrists and had Kevlar gloves that felt more like new leather. Uncomfortable and rigid. There was a muzzle for him, goggles too. He twisted the muzzle in his hands, analysing it. Navin figured it would do, though would possibly constrict his oxygen supply. He didn't mind; if Yasha was able to put his on without a second thought, then he'd do the same.

Their mission was a simple one - take out this base located in Nunavut. Take out anyone in the base and anyone who tried to escape. Especially if they tried to escape. The two would take any and all information from the base and from anyone there. Malcolm and the main Handler Crossbones had said there wasn't a high chance of there being people at their target, but if there was, well, they knew how to take them out.

"Navin,"

Navin looked up, wiping his white hair out of his eyes. Yasha stared at him as he held out the goggles Navin had left on his seat when he had put the rest of his gear on. Navin took them with a nod of his head towards Yasha, who returned the small gesture.

"Let's go."

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yasha landed the jet on the edge of the woods, the base several miles within. Crossbones and some of his men had joined them, as backup. This was Navin's first mission. He knew what to do, could remember his training. They were backup if he fucked up. He didn't want to fuck up, didn't want Yasha to get punished for whatever he could do wrong. He knew he could do something wrong, the possibility was there, so he had to make sure he wouldn't. For Yasha's sake.

Yasha stood up and walked to Navin, taking the guns offered by Crossbones and his men and handed Navin two out of the five.

"You know what you're doing?" Crossbones asked as he readjusted the strap digging into his shoulder. "Speed Yasha over, Navin, and sneak in, take them out, take the Intel and blow the fucker up,"

Navin nodded, pulling his goggles over his eyes, Yasha copying the movement.

He looked to Yasha who gave him a look through his protected eyes, goggles slightly tinted, whilst the rest of his face was covered by the muzzle. Navin put an arm around Yasha, the other holding his head and the two vanished not a second later.

"Think they're right?" Darian asked his boss the moment the two Assets left. "That they're feelin' that queer shit for each other?"

"Probably," Crossbones answered, turning to look at Darian (a young man, dark hair, light brown skin and almost captivatingly brown eyes). "If they go ahead with their new plan, it could either fuck everything up or make it. Just gotta hope Navin doesn't fuck up or else they'll have to scrap everything and make the poor dumb freak forget about him,"

"Their ship name would be Nasha," Dockers, the skinny white male with almost luminous ginger hair and beard, piped up. Crossbones groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Dockers I will stab you," he stated, turning his serious look on Dockers who turned his gaze away. "Let's go, ladies," he said loudly, smacking the pipe above him, making it echo throughout the jet. "Those dopes could still fuck up."

Navin got both him and Yasha to the other side of the woods, barely taking five seconds. He released his hold on Yasha once they got to the treeline and he saw Yasha looking faintly sick.

"Sorry," he said. Yasha looked at him, pushing his windswept hair from his face.

"That was ... nice," said Yasha, taking Navin by surprise. He raised his eyebrow and Yasha said something quietly, but the muzzle muffled the words into incoherency.

"What?"

"I said is it always like that? So fast and so sudden?"

"Yes. But I got used to it," he answered and Yasha nodded, turning his attention back to the base.

It was a large building, looking all grey and lonely. It was of similar colour to the area it was built in, and looked about just as deserted. Navin and Yasha knew that this was only a façade and that there was bound to be people in. There usually was, even if it looked empty.

"The fence," Yasha said.

"Electric," Navin nodded, eyes scanning over the area they were going to infiltrate.

"Get us in?"

"Yes. There's a surge gap; too much electricity and it gives away in the corner there," Navin said, pointing to the furthest corner.

"Can you get us through between the surges?"

"Yes," Navin answered honestly and took hold of Yasha and the next thing Yasha knew, he was on the other side of the fence. "Your way?" Navin asked and Yasha nodded and led the two of them towards the building, the nearest entrance. They moved in the shadows and acted like them too. Yasha kept a hand close to Navin, fingers gracing over his chest if he moved too quick or if Yasha slowed down, stopping them from being spotted. They got to their entrance easily enough, picking the lock  in less than a few mere seconds and they were in.

"Too easy. Keep eye out," Yasha said lowly and Navin nodded, raising his gun slightly, eyes skimming over the area as they moved forward. They rounded a corner and saw a doorway open, the door flat against the door. Light was flooding out of it.

"... they won't let the Avengers do shit any more, not since the Scarlet Bitch fucked up -"

Yasha and Navin pressed themselves to the wall, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Navin tapped Yasha's fingers and he looked over at Navin before nodding. Navin vanished from in front of him and he heard the thudding of bodies falling to the floor in the room. Yasha slid towards the doorway and Navin walked out of the room, wiping his gloved hands on his trousers. He looked at Yasha before he jerked his head to the room and Yasha followed him in.

"Fuck, yeah," Yasha said appreciatively, looking at the different screens showing the camera feeds. He tugged off his goggles and Navin followed his actions. Yasha kept his eyes averted from Navin's.

"Yes," Navin nodded, smile on his face underneath the muzzle. Yasha turned to him and pressed at the earpiece in Navin's ear.

"I shall tell you where people are and when you'll see them. It'll help you find out where the most Intel,"

"OK." Navin said before he vanished. Yasha shut the door and held a gun in his hand as he stared at the screens, his body hyperaware of his surroundings.

Navin ran. He ran as fast as he was able to, listening to Yasha telling him to go down which corridors and to avoid or kill those who were on their way down the corridors Navin was going down.

"Navin, there," Yasha said, and saw Navin appear on one of the camera feeds, just out of sight, but Yasha spotted him; he was trained to spot these things. "On your left, the door there - yeah, there. That's where the Intel is supposed to be," Yasha informed him, eyes looking at the different screens, seeing if anyone else would be there.

Navin vanished into the room, and Yasha knew to keep it radio silent. He stared at the different camera feeds, seeing people walking through the corridors, not knowing that their co-workers had been taken out by the Assets.

Navin stared at the copious amounts of technology in the room, all branded with the SHIELD logo and STARK INDUSTRIES. He felt like he should have known both of them, the second more so than the former, but he didn't care, pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, moving forward to the computers. He typed away, eyes flickering rapidly between the screen and the keyboard. He pulled out the memory sticks and put them in place, moving to each computer and repeating his actions, letting the memory sticks download all the Intel.

He kept his gun in his hand as he looked around the rest of the room, hyperaware of his surroundings. Navin didn't like where he was; didn't trust it. Something felt off, like something was wrong. He felt his lips pull as he unconsciously made a face and felt a vague sense of confusion as to why he did it.

Man, he needed Yasha's help.

He wondered who the Scarlet Bitch was; it couldn't have been the person's real name, could it? Was it a nickname for an alias?

Navin didn't know and made himself not care. If he felt like he really wanted to know, he would probably talk to Yasha about it; Yasha was his mentor, trained him in everything, helped him. Yasha would help him with this if he wanted. He looked at the computer screens and saw the data had been transferred. He took them out and placed them in his pockets, making sure they were closed before he wiped the computers of everything.

"Yasha?" he asked, voice low as he touched the earpiece.

"You're clear," came the answer to his unasked question. Navin nodded - more to himself than anything - before he sped his way back to Yasha in the control room, where there had begun a pile of bodies, blood leaking from under the pile. "Did you get everything?"

"Yes."

"We're going to go and clear out the rest of the facility. Find someone who'll actually know something. None of these would - or did," Yasha said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the pile of corpses. Navin nodded and the two got up and left the room.

The way they moved together was frightening, like shadows, merging into the darkness, leaving others unaware of their presence unless they moved, shifted wrong and then would be revealed.

But they had been trained too hard to move at the wrong time, or the wrong way. They both knew what they would be doing, what they would do.

It took about ten minutes to find someone worth getting information out.

It wasn't pretty.

Yasha asked the questions, seeking answers he knew the woman had. She wasn't old by any means, actually quite young, with Eastern Asian heritage clear in her features, a sense of pride and determination around her. She refused to give any details. That was when Navin would made his début. He twiddled the knife around his fingers in an oddly graceful manner, eyeing the blade with something that terrified her (not that her face showed it, which had surprised both men). He knelt down beside her and pressed the knife against her barefoot before he dug the blade in and drug it across, from her heel to her toes. The two Assets didn't show their surprise at how well she kept her screams in, only letting out a little whimper, eyes hard even though they shone with pained tears.

"Tell us what Project Quicksilver is," Yasha demanded, voice low and dangerous. She stared him in the eye, looking like she was challenging him.

"You do know that regardless, I won't tell you," she informed him, raising one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. Yasha sighed before he nodded to Navin who began to tear off some of her flesh from her foot.

She couldn't hold in the screams this time.

She knew they relished in her cries of pain, but she couldn't help it. Navin kept his face blank, emotionless, as he tore off parts of the flesh on her foot, seeing the blood dripping over the skin and flesh and onto his gloved fingers, pooling on the floor. Her body was shaking, making the task only minorly difficult, but he knew her unintentional thrashing was causing more pain. Her next screams were justified; Navin had begun to try and take her bones out of her foot.

"Tell us?" Navin asked and she stared at him in shock through her blurred vision. She recognised that thick, heavy accent. "Fucking tell us," he ordered and she felt a sharp, stinging pain in her face. It paled in comparison to the white hot fire in her right foot. She could feel her leg trembling, could actually feel the blood leaving her foot, felt it sticking to her skin underneath.

"It was a way to bring someone back to life," she admitted, unable to believe what she was saying or what she was seeing. "Seems someone already succeeded." she added and instantly regretted it.

"Who?" Yasha pressed, his metal hand on her jaw, lifting her face up. She glared at him, trying to keep herself composed. "Navin," he said and the pain in her foot was increased and she let out a raw noise that pained their ears. Navin tried not to grin as he saw her protests from his actions, but she should have seen this coming. He felt himself pause in his carvings as he thought about those words that had begun to ring in his head. _'You didn't see that coming?'_ Where had he heard those words before? He sighed to himself before he pushed the thoughts aside and returned to the carving of her foot, pulling at the bones there. All that had happened in less than a millisecond.

"HYDRA!" she screamed and Navin let her foot go, watching the blood falling out of the wound.

She would most likely die from blood loss or infection. Or the fire. They were going to burn the base down anyway.

"Hydra?" Yasha repeated, keeping his gaze on her, not wanting to risk a glance at Navin.

"Yes, Hydra," she said, chest heaving. Yasha released his grip on her and her upper body all but collapsed, her chin precariously close to her knees. Her breathing was laboured, being the only noise in the room, aside from the blood dripping from her wound. The only thing that was keeping her conscious was the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

"How do you know this?" Navin asked and she turned to look at him, giving him an approximation of a 'what the fuck?' look.

"I'm looking at the proof," she answered. Navin frowned at her before he turned to look at Yasha, whose face was blank, bar his eyes, which Navin saw, had the confusion Navin was feeling.

Navin turned to look at her again, face vacuous. "Explain," he said and she raised that eyebrow again. Navin hit her again, Yasha grabbed his wrist and gave him a look.

"I'm not going to tell you, idiot," she said, face impassive. They had to give her props for holding out that long.

"You better," Yasha began. "or I'm going to let him do whatever he pleases and from that on your foot, sweetheart, he's just getting started," he told her. She bit her lip a little before sighing.

"I'm going to die anyway," she said, which was true. "So why not die by pissing off Hydra's little bitches?"

"NAVIN!" Yasha yelled, but it was too late. It happened in less than a nanosecond. Her head lolled to the side, eyes glazed over, mouth slightly agape. Yasha stared at the bones poking out of the side of her neck, tugging at the skin uncomfortable as the blood dripped down what remained of her neck. "What the fuck?" Yasha demanded, grabbing Navin and turned him around. Yasha saw the way Navin's eyes were blown wide, shock spilling over his face. His shoulders were shaking, moving in time with the uneven rhythm of his breathing. "Nav,"

"I - I am not - she knew something -" he stopped talking, raking his fingers through his white hair. "I remember something,"

"Navin, shut the fuck up!" Yasha hissed at him, taking hold of Navin's shoulder and shook him for a second roughly. "You say that shit you'll be made to forget. Keep it quiet."

"She said something about the Project Quicksilver. What if that is what I am?"

"You do fit." Yasha said honestly, knocking Navin's head slightly. "Silver hair, remarkable speed."

"What the fuck?"

"We'll talk about this later," Yasha promised and Navin nodded, turning to look at the woman, but Yasha pushed his head back, hand surprisingly nice against Navin's cheek, making him keep eye contact with him. If the situation had been different, Navin might have considered leaning into it, holding it closer against his cheek. "We'll fix this,"

"We should not even be thinking like this," Navin murmured and Yasha nodded his agreements.

"We shouldn't. But we are. They can't take this away from us if we don't tell them,"

Navin made a pained face. "And the words?"

"The words have worn off. How else could we be talking like this?" Yasha explained and Navin nodded in agreement. His lips did that twitch that they did before and he ran his tongue over his lower lip. "What?"

"How could the words wear off? They will use them again,"

"And we'll fight them like we did today," Yasha said with a shrug of his metallic shoulder, nonchalant expression placed on his face. "I know that I did not start questioning things, started remembering things, until you came along,"

"Until I came along? You have been my mentor for years, Malcolm found me when I was - what? - ten?" Navin said and Yasha shook his head.

"I do not think so. That's just what they want us to think," Yasha said, looking at Navin with something Navin felt like he should have recognised. He didn't.

"Maybe we should think it," Navin muttered, eyes casting downward for a few seconds before he looked up at Yasha, feeling like his eyes were stinging and probably brighter than normal.

"Nav, no," Yasha sighed and rubbed at Navin's face gently. "We should. I do not usually make these orders, but then you suddenly came along and now I'm making the orders, telling you what to do, how to do these things and it feels like I can think again."

"This is not going to end well," Navin said and Yasha nodded before he shrugged.

"At least we will get to be ourselves again,"

"But I am Navin. It is who I am. I ... I have always been Navin, always will be."

"For some reason, I really don't think that's true," Yasha said.

 

* * *

 

 

The two stared at the burning building, the smoke billowing up almost angrily into the sky. The red of the fire merged with the blackness of the smoke and the two stood, seeming to be mesmerised. They knew Crossbones and the others were waiting for them, but they were waiting; they would make sure every last part of it burnt down and turned to ash.

"We'll figure everything out," Yasha said, voice deep and rolled over Navin, reassuring him.

"You think we will?"

"They can try and take everything from us. But they won't. You're too strong for it. You're questioning stuff,"

"That's because I always did that,"

"See? They couldn't take that from you," Yasha said, forcing a small smile onto his face. Navin nodded and nudged closer to him, fingers grazing against Yasha's metal ones. Yasha's mouth twitched before he pushed his fingers through Navin's.

"Why do you call me Nav?"

"I don't know,"

"I like it,"

"Good."


	4. Nostalgia

Navin stared straight ahead. Blankly. Unmoving.

Yasha was the same.

Their heads ached and they stared ahead, waiting for something to happen. They both knew something would happen. They were made to fight, they knew each other, how they would be able to work together and what they were supposed to do - follow orders.

"Yasha." Yasha looked towards the man who spoke, face blank. "We have a mission."

"Navin?" Yasha asked and Navin turned to look at Yasha and the man expectantly. Yasha glanced over at him, not moving his head. The man looked between the two, eyes analysing critically.

"Нет." the man said, shaking his head once. "You are needed solely. Navin will be put under ice until you return."

The two Assets nodded, faces staying with that neutral expression despite their hearts hammering uncomfortably against their sternums.

The doors opened and in walked Crossbones, Darian and Dockers. Navin felt the hairs on his arms stand up and he tried to hide the discomfort. He really didn't trust them.

"Crossbones, put Navin on ice." the man said and Crossbones nodded, deliberately cocking his gun.

Crossbones jerked his gun at Navin, who didn't move. "Up. Let's go!"

Navin stood up (and found himself doing so reluctantly). He turned back to look at Yasha who was staring at him. He nodded his head minutely and Navin turned back to Crossbones and followed the man out of the lab. Crossbones gestured with his finger and walked out of the room and Navin followed, repressing a sigh and a roll of his eyes.

He knew he wasn't supposed to feel or think those things - to sigh at commands or roll his eyes whenever he felt something was stupid. He was only supposed to follow orders, to aid Yasha in his missions. That was all he did, all he had been made for.

So why was he doing more human things? After all, he was an Asset.

The walk to the chamber was painfully slow, dragging on Navin like decades. In that time, he tried to think of anything that could be, or what could have been. He couldn't. This had left him feeling oddly empty. Like he was forgetting something.

He wished to never forget Yasha. He couldn't forget Yasha.

Navin knew that he would probably never be able to forget Yasha. He was programmed to never forget Yasha, what the two of them could do together, how each other worked. It was slightly terrifying, but he decided he didn't care.

When they got to the chambers, he felt his stomach drop. There it was. He had been inside that specific chamber a multitude of times. Each and every time he saw it, it would leave an unsettling fear gripping him. Navin supposed it was because he would be terrified of the time where they would forget about him and leave him frozen for ever. Sometimes when he would think of this, he guessed that Yasha would try and retrieve him.

They were the two Assets that would never be able to be replaced.

"Get in." Crossbones commanded as the lab-coats walked around the different machines, whirring the chamber to life. Navin turned and looked at Crossbones blankly before he walked up to the chamber pod and watched as it slid open, cold air gushing out of it, whipping at Navin's face harshly. He could feel his heart working its way up his throat, but he tried to ignore it as he stepped up into it and pressed his back against the cold metal.

Navin stared straight ahead, feeling his nerves kicking in, wanting to use his powers to get him and Yasha away -

But it was too late, the chamber doors slid shut and his train of thought was cut off as the ice covered him, freezing him entirely.

If he could have, he would have wished to see Yasha before he was sent on his mission, to tell him good luck. But he couldn't. He was now frozen still, all so wrong considering what he was fully capable of.

Navin always hated the feeling of the ice.

 

* * *

 

 

Yasha returned about two weeks later, battered and bruised and tired and with the strange feeling of wanting to see Navin.

Yasha followed the suit-and-ties to the labs, after having given his weapons back to Crossbones and his men. He felt like something was going to go wrong. He couldn't voice this of course; he had no voice in the matter of what felt right or wrong. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, what was making him think that something was going to go wrong.

"Where's Navin?" Yasha asked when they came to a stop.

"Chamber." Crossbones answered, giving Yasha a look.

Yasha nodded and continued his walk to the chambers. He knew he was going to be put under too. It was either that or train. If Navin was going to be put under, the so would he.

Or he would have, if there wasn't a massive explosion that shook the base.

The blast was so violent it knocked him to the ground. His head hit the concrete hard and a darkness threatened to take over his sight. Yasha shook his head as he put his metallic hand on the floor, trying to balance himself as he looked around, the world lagging behind.

Yasha blinked multiple times and scrambled to his feet, seeing the suit-and-ties and the lab-coats running around, sounds meshing into one big noise, weighing down on him.

" _Navin._ "

Yasha surged into motion, stalking towards the chambers. The lab-coats walked past him, hardly paying him any mind. They simply screamed, trying to get out of the way and out of the base.

When Yasha got to the chambers, he was momentarily blinded by flashing red lights.

"Navin?"

Yasha walked forwards to the mass of computers, eyes gazing over the active chamber, where he could see Navin's frozen face through the glass. He stared at the computer screens, trying to make sense of what it was saying. He looked between the screen and the chamber pod Navin was in, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his heart rising in his throat.

He rushed over to the chamber pod and looked at the different buttons on it. He looked up to the glass and stared momentarily up at Navin's frozen features, saw how at peace he was. It was odd to see Navin like that. Yasha side before he pressed some buttons uncertain of what they would do.

To his relief, the chamber opened, cold air gushing out and hit him in the face. Navin stirred slightly before he fell forwards, Yasha stumbling forward to catch him. Navin's grip on him was tight and cold, his weight heavy against his chest.

"Navin," he said before the base shook again.

Navin groaned before he moved his weight to his own feet and looked up at Yasha, blinking heavily. "What is happening?" he asked, looking around, dazed. The base shook again.

"We're being attacked, we need to leave." Yasha ordered and Navin nodded, already sobering up from his dazed state.

"Let's go." Navin said and the two turned to the door and walked out, going into their Soldier modes.

They moved in the shadows, avoiding the debris that fell from the ceiling. Yasha led them towards the ammunitions room. It was unnerving; they could feel the ground shaking underneath their feet.

Navin's heart was hammering its way painfully up his throat. His throat felt dry and raw. He gazed over at Yasha and saw him nod. Navin took hold of Yasha and before Yasha new it, they were both standing inside of the ammunitions room. Yasha blinked a few times and looked around.

"Let's take shit and leave." Yasha said and Navin nodded. Navin took hold of him before he raced out of the base.

The surroundings of the base were nice, considering what was held inside the base. Navin wasn't all that bothered by the surroundings. All that mattered was that he got Yasha out of there. Navin did appreciate how nice the forest was, hiding the base from view. The trees were tall, towering over the two, but it felt strangely nice. Almost homely.

The ground underfoot changed from dirt and grass to pavement. He stopped and turned to look at Yasha who was looking faintly sick. "Sorry." Navin said, not feeling all that apologetic.

Yasha shook his head. "It's fine. We should go find somewhere to hole up." Yasha said. Navin nodded and the two started walking.

The city they had arrived in was busy, with crowds of people.

"Where are we?" Yasha asked once he had found an old abandoned building and had set up a small base for them.

"Uh, I do not know," Navin said a little sheepishly. "America? Russia?"

Yasha sighed as he sat beside Navin. "We can find out tomorrow."

Navin looked over at him before laying down on the hard wooden floor. "We should be waiting for orders. They should find us," Navin glanced over at Yasha who was still sat upright.

"And we're not?"

"I do not think so." Navin shook his head, feeling like his head was full of conflictions. He knew he had to wait for orders, for the higher-ups, but something was telling him that he didn't have to and everything just felt wrong.

He wondered if Yasha felt the same way, or if he did not care. Yasha was something else for Navin. He was all he had known and yet he was like something he had never seen before. Why was his head like this?

"Get some sleep." Yasha's voice broke the silence, pulling Navin out of his thoughts roughly. He blinked and looked over at Yasha. "You need it. Sleep. I'll be fine." Navin looked through the gaps in the boarded windows and saw the night sky, void of stars.

Navin sighed but nodded. "Wake me up when you get tired. We can take shifts."

"Sleep." Yasha repeated.

 

* * *

 

 

When Navin woke up, light was streaming between the boards over the windows and Yasha was still sat up. Navin pulled himself up, wiping at his face.

"You were supposed to wake me for a shift," Navin said, biting back a yawn.

Yasha shrugged his metal shoulder. "You were sleeping. It was peaceful. You've never looked at ease," Yasha said, eyes darting to Navin quickly. "It was nice to see you like that."

"But you need rest too," Navin said and Yasha batted Navin's hand away from him. Navin sighed, feeling an odd sense of defeat. "We should go find food."

Yasha nodded, moving slightly, bones cracking loudly. They looked at each other before nodding. They had to clean themselves up; it was either that or get arrested based on how they had blood covering their Kevlar gear. Yasha was the one to go and get some new clothes whilst Navin kept an eye out on him from a distance.

They returned to their little hole up and changed, not bothering to hide their bodies from each other.

"Let's go." Yasha said once they had both changed. He led Navin out of the building and moved down the streets, mixing into the crowds with ease.

Yasha had gotten Navin a hat to hide his shocking hair. Both of them knew that Navin's hair could so easily catch anyone's attention. If they were going to look like regular humans, they had to hide anything that was unusual about them.

Easily enough, they stole money from people, no-one noticing the loss. They got food just as easy, finding they were in fact in America, they used English, the words coming out accentless.

"How much should you eat?" Yasha asked after biting into his hamburger, eyes on Navin.

"I do not know. Probably more because of what I can do," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

Yasha nodded. "We will go shopping at different intervals today at different stores," Navin nodded as his whizzed his eyes over the surrounding area he could see. Safe. "Then we can go and find somewhere safe."

"Wait for orders?" Navin asked before he could stop himself. He saw how Yasha raised an eyebrow at him and Navin just looked back. "It is ... it is what we are supposed to do? Wait for the higher ups, but ..." he stopped talking, a frown taking over his face.

A gloved metal hand reached out to his own hand and he looked over at Yasha, feeling something strange inside him.

"Nav, it's OK. What we were talking about, treason or whatever. Something - something happened to us,"

"Yeah, something did happen. Do you know what happened to me?"

Before Yasha could open his mouth, a loud screech erupted above them.

They both looked up, dropping their food as they stared at the odd alien-slash-evil-bad-guys that were flying above the city.

"The fuck?"

"Let's get outta here!" Yasha yelled and grabbed Navin's wrist and then the two were running through the streets, pushing their way through the masses of people.

Navin could feel his heart pounding madly against his sternum and he could feel the metal plates of Yasha's hand digging into his wrist. He couldn't concentrate on anything except Yasha, his mind whirring madly. But there was something inside him that was telling him he should've been helping those people; he wasn't sure where it had come from. Instead of voicing it, he kept his mouth shut and followed Yasha, wanting to run them somewhere safe; but the risk of being noticed too big.

They rounded a block and Navin crashed into Yasha's back. He looked over Yasha's shoulder and saw them.

The Avengers.

" _Shit_."

Navin looked at them all, running, flying and generally going to battle the enemy.

Something was wrong.

He saw how Captain America launched himself recklessly at one; Iron Man shot lasers at several and Hawkeye and the Black Widow worked together, shooting and killing every single target. Then he saw that other woman.

He watched as she flew upwards, red surrounding her before it exploded from her hands towards her target. Navin felt himself frown as he watched her work, feeling something inside him turning, like he was missing pieces of a puzzle; or like he was looking through a fogged up window, unable to see the details clearly.

"Navin?"

Navin blinked and turned his head to look at Yasha. "What?"

"We gotta move!" His words came out with a strange kind of drawl that Navin didn't expect. "Let's go." he urged before he took hold of Navin's hands and pulled him forwards again.

The sounds returned to Navin at full force. He was suddenly aware of the loud roaring sounds, of the people around them screaming, whether it was names or just out of fear, the screams just attacked his ears. The sounds of the buildings giving way, debris falling and crashing sounds simply echoed.

Navin's ears were ringing, but all he knew was that he was going to follow Yasha to the ends of the Earth.

And then a hand grabbed his upper arm. Navin felt himself stop and he turned to see the woman who had been surrounded by red. Her face was tense, eyes wide as she stared at him. She looked like she was staring at a ghost. Navin briefly knew he was a ghost (well, ghost _assassin_ ), but didn't know why she was looking at him like she was.

He blinked and he was suddenly back in normal time -

" _Pietro?_ "

"Who the hell is that?" he asked before Yasha came and grabbed him and yanked him out of her grip, his glare keeping her in her place until Navin took a better hold of him and they were back in the abandoned building.

"Who is she?" Yasha said as soon as he regained his composure.

Navin simply looked at him. Yasha let out a rough sound before he jerked forwards, towards Navin, and then they were hugging.

It was a weird concept, but Navin quickly complied, deciding this was easily his favourite thing. The next thing he acknowledged was that he was crying and he didn't know why. There were so many things going off in his mind that he didn't know how to comprehend any of it. He sort of wished that he could go back under the ice; go under the ice where his mind would be blank and things would be dark and he wouldn't have to worry about anything.

Well, anything except Yasha.

Yasha's weight against his, the firm grip around him, kept him sane - he wasn't sure how that was supposed to work. They were assassins - assets - they weren't supposed to think or feel like this. And yet they were.

"We'll figure shit out." Yasha said after a few beats of silence. Navin blinked a few times, trying to keep himself in _'normal'_ time, not quick time. "We'll figure out who that woman is, why she called you Pietro and what the fuck really happened to us."

"You're talking treason again." Navin mumbled, turning his face into Yasha's neck, finding the heat radiating off his skin reassuring. His eyes closed and he could feel his body relaxing as Yasha pulled him closer.

Oh, this was wrong. They definitely weren't programmed to behave like that.

"Don't care," Yasha said. "Want you safe." he said quietly, voice far too soft to be humanly possible.

Before Navin could register it, Yasha had pulled away from him, aimed a gun at the door and fired.

Tension rose in Navin's body but his body was working on auto and he was holding a gun up, shoulders tense as he glanced around him. He had to make sure Yasha would be safe.

"Желание."

"Fuck."

 

* * *

 

 

Navin's regain of consciousness was a difficult task.

There was the cold, the harsh bite of coming out of cryo before it faded to black only for life to make him resurface as Yasha was triggered immobile as they wheeled him away. Even though he couldn't physically move, he yelled his complaints until they made him shut up.

They wheel him out to the huge mechanical chair that never failed to make his stomach drop and before he knew it, he had been tied down and had a mouthpiece shoved into his mouth before the horrible headpiece descended on him and then pain was all he knew.

When he properly woke up, he could feel an ache in his head, like something was missing. Navin looked around where he was and let out a sigh, rubbing at his head subconsciously. The room he had woken in was plain and he knew it could've been worse. It had some basics for any human and the bed wasn't all that bad. The colour scheme could've done with a bit of a work, but he didn't voice it; he wasn't supposed to think of remarks like that, wasn't supposed to even think like that.

A loud, scraping noise sounded from his left and he turned to see a plate of food being pushed into a dog-flap-type of flap.

"Food." a dull voice said on the other side before Navin heard footsteps and the food was in his lap as he sat back down on the bed, taking in the look of the food in all its glory. It smelt good too and he couldn't trace any poisons.

Whatever.

The next thing he knew he had eaten it all.

He looked around the room again, feeling boredom itching its way up him. Navin went to the door, looked through the crappy bars to the dull hallway outside.

"Mission?" he asked, wondering if there was any point in asking.

"You're no longer needed for missions."

Navin jumped at the voice. They had wired his room? His cell?

"Why?"

"Turns out we only need one Asset."

Navin ran his tongue over his teeth but nodded. He went and laid down on his bed, thinking. He was bored.

So he started to exercise.

The room was not really built for his kind of exercise, so he stuck to push ups, sit ups and other generic exercises he could do in the small vicinity. He wasn't quite sure how long this had gone on for; he had no real concept of time apart from when he would get his meals. Navin knew they could've always refused to give him food and let him rot in his cell, but to see they would be feeding him made him think that at some point he would be made of use.

He thought back to the cryo-chambers and how they could have oh so easily put him back in the ice until he was actually needed - so why were they keeping him out of the freezer?

Navin had so many questions but didn't know how to ask them - or who to ask them to.

What had to be days later, he heard quiet Russian murmurings and was at his door within a millisecond. So many scenarios ran through his head but none of them proved right. Three men walked past, all white and all spoke Russian. The one in the middle  (with that metal arm) glanced over at him as he passed Navin's cell. Pietro felt his face twitch into a frown momentarily as he stared at the man like he was someone he was supposed to know.

Why was he supposed to know this man? And yet he had no memories of him?

The men continued to walk past and the metal armed man turned his attention back to the other men and continued their conversation as if nothing unusual had happened.

Navin sighed as he turned back to his bed and laid down, throwing his arm over his face. He supposed nothing unusual _had_ happened.

Regardless, the man's face was all he could think about for the next however long.

(It turned out to only be a few hours, not that Navin would ever know.)

  

* * *

 

 

 

Yasha returned to the cell once the lab-coats and the suit-and-ties had thought he had gone to bed and they had retreated to their respective areas (either labs or business calls or even bedrooms. He didn't care), he had gone back to the cell where the silver haired man resided in. Yasha knew his curiosity was stupid, that he would pay for it later. But at the moment, he did not care.

He managed to get there easily enough, avoiding people so that they wouldn't see him and so that he wouldn't be asked of what he was doing without a supervisor.

"What are you doing here?"

If it wasn't Yasha, anyone else probably would've jumped. He felt a wave of air hit him in the face and he looked at the silver haired man through the bars curiously.

"What are you doing here?" the man repeated, raising a heavy eyebrow at Yasha.

Yasha shrugged at him before he clicked open the lock on the man's door, but kept a firm Vibranium hand on the doorknob. "You will not leave when I enter. You won't use your enhancement unless stated otherwise and you'll listen to commands."

Navin blinked. "That is standard protocol, I believe." he said before he backed away at a capable human speed. Yasha gave him a distrusting look, but his curiosity was practically screaming at him that he had to open the door and go into the cell with the other man.

He looked around the cell before he sat on the foot of the bed, about two or three feet away from the other man.

"What do you want? This is test, no?" the man asked, frown firmly on his face.

"No," Yasha said, wondering what he was doing there. "Something felt wrong, so I - I came to you to fix it?"

Yasha made a jerking motion but forced himself to stay still and looked down at the floor, feeling a flurry of emotions inside him that he wasn't used to.

They continued to sit in silence for a few minutes, adjusting to seeing each other.

"This is not the first time we have met." Navin said, breaking the tense silence. "I can tell," he continued. "Like something happened before the cold -"

"You get woken by the cold too?" Yasha asked before he could stop himself. Navin looked up at him just to see him turn away, ashamed. "The - I think they call it the cryo-chamber - I wake up from in there and it's cold and they expect me to not remember certain things like the chamber or the chair," Yasha said, feeling like he was doing something dumb. It was a bad idea to talk like that; bordering treason.

"I remember the chair too," Navin said quietly and it filled Yasha with something he wasn't used to, but knew Navin could make him feel like that repeatedly, without even trying. "My head hurt after, I am sure of it."

Yasha nodded. "Да. So they keep things from us?"

Navin shrugged his shoulders, eyes looking at the door cautiously. "What if they try to make us forget things? They talk like we are assets, like we are robots, but we are not. We are human too, even if we do not look or act it." Navin said and Yasha looked at him confused. "You look human to me and I assume I look human to you. And yet we are kept like this, put in that chamber and the chair. It is not right."

"We are definitely talking treason now." Yasha muttered and Navin rolled his eyes.

"Who cares? It could get us either out of this or killed and both options are good, all things considered." Navin said with a sigh.

Yasha shrugged. "Well, we could always break out?" he suggested, tone nervous and tense.

Navin grinned, eyes glinting. "I like the way you think."

 

* * *

 

 

 

The nights hidden in Navin's room turned into weeks, turned into months.

They got used to how Yasha would sneak away at night, avoid the people and go and hide in Navin's room and talk all kinds of treason. It was strange and they might have even argued that it felt like they were giggly teenagers as they hid away and talked about the things they weren't supposed to; weren't programmed to.

There were times when people would go to check on Navin, and then they would have to hide Yasha, make sure they wouldn't see him, see that they were talking together, making ideas together. Those times were tense, made them worry if they would be caught and punished.

"When are we going to leave?" Navin asked after the fourth month. Yasha had come back from a mission, looking haggard and tired and they both knew he was going to get wiped if they weren't going to take action soon.

Yasha shrugged, leaning against the wall as he looked over at Navin. Something stirred inside him and he bit back a smile as Navin shifted closer to him. "Soon."

"Tonight soon? Or next week soon? It always takes ages to bring you back after the wiping." Navin said and Yasha sighed, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

"Tonight." Yasha said, nodding.

Yasha froze when Navin's head was placed on his shoulder and he wondered what he was supposed to do.

Navin let out a quiet sigh before he pulled away. "Sorry. I just do not want you to go."

"It's fine," Yasha said before he stood up, stretching slightly. "If we're going to go tonight I think now will be best."

"Are you sure we have planned it enough?" Navin asked as he too stood up and moved closer to Yasha (Yasha felt his heart jolt and wondered if he was going to be sick).

"Yeah," Yasha turned to look back at the door, feeling a different tension working its way over him. "Let's go."

Together, they exited the room.

Navin looked around as they walked, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. He knew he had probably been through the different hallways, been with Yasha elsewhere. It was strange, but he couldn't think of that, he had to follow Yasha. 

"Yasha!"

They both jumped and Navin vanished. Yasha looked around and saw Crossbones standing there.

God, Crossbones looked fucking ugly. The scars on his face looked horrendous, scraping across his face and left him looking worse for wear. Crossbones smiled and Yasha tried not to wince as the skin pulled back.

"Yes?"

Crossbones moved closer to him and Yasha looked him up and down, wondering what was going to happen. He didn't trust him, not really.

"Navin's missing. You got any idea why?"

Yasha shrugged, trying to keep nonchalant. "Guy's fast, he could do anything," he said, making sure he didn't look around. "Maybe he just escaped?"

The man laughed, and Yasha held back his grimace. He moved closer to Yasha, kept moving closer until they were barely in inch apart. "See, I think there's something going on. Something weird. Everyone thinks I'm going crazy. Know why?"

"Нет." Yasha said, ignoring how his heart was trying to burst out of his chest.

Crossbones grinned. "Well, the CCTV kinda says different -"

And then he wasn't in front of Yasha.

Yasha frowned and turned around on his heels and saw Navin across the long hall, face contorted in anger as he stared down at Crossbones' body, hunched over. Yasha moved forwards steadily, keeping his pace even before he was putting his hand on Navin's back and was pulling him up from his half crouched position.

"Did you kill him?"

"Either that or he's gonna have serious brain damage. Or broken neck or spine." Navin said, breathing out heavily through his nose. Yasha moved his hands off Navin who let out a sigh. "He was going for his gun, was going to kill you - I didn't -" he stopped talking and let out a slow breath.

"It's OK. Let's go." Yasha said with a soft sigh.

Navin looked around before he took hold of Yasha's hand and led him through some doors. Yasha said nothing, simply letting Navin take him whichever way. Neither of them were sure of how long Navin was dragging him out of the base, but it was tense throughout.

Navin pushed open one final door and they were hit with a cold wind. There was snow on the ground, thick and pure white and untainted. It looked strange to see the ground so pure looking that it almost took them by surprise. Yasha saw Navin turn to him and he nodded and the next thing he knew, he was surrounded by cold and they were about a foot away from the fence.

"Electric." Yasha sighed.

"I cannot risk getting you through that. It could hurt you."

"Or you." Yasha countered and Navin rolled his eyes.

"It does not matter about me; you are important."

Yasha sighed before they both crouched down when they heard the starts of engines. He looked over at Navin who nodded and they both moved towards the noise, keeping low as the wind got harsher and the snow started to whip down on them. The clothes they were wearing did no aid to protect themselves from the harsh weather. It didn't matter if they were cold or not; they had to get away.

The vans were beginning to move out of the base, lights bleeding through the darkness.

"Final one?" Navin breathed out behind him.

"Да."

Once the final van was moving, they started towards it, taking in the view, seeing how many guards were around. They only had one chance and they had to get it right -

Yasha rolled under the moving van and grabbed hold of the underside and Navin was instantly next to him. He looked over at him and Navin nodded at him. He let out a heavy breath as the van moved, almost shaking their grips loose.

"We got this," Yasha whispered, voice managing to travel over the noise of the van. "We wait for a few minutes before we take over the van."

Navin nodded, readjusting his grip on the underside, the different parts starting to creak ominously. Yasha moved too, and slipped his arm around him, taking a firm hold so that neither of them fell. They both tried to ignore how close they really were to each other, could feel the warmth from the other's skin.

It wasn't the time to think about those things; they were trying to not die, and not fall from the underside of the van. Maybe they would be able to think about it when they were safe, away from the base that had Crossbones' body, that had the cryo-chamber and chair that hurt.

Yasha mentally counted to half an hour before he caught Navin's attention and nodded to the side.

"Let's go." Navin murmured and followed Yasha's lead.

They went to the back of the van and opened the shutter door, only to see there were many guns and no humans. They looked at each other for half a second before they reached in and took the nearest guns. Yasha pulled it shut and locked it before they climbed up it, slipping from the cold; fingers frozen and aching. When they made it to the roof of the van, they stopped, crouching together as they waited for the van to stop, in case the driver or anyone in the van had heard them. They looked over at each other, eyes narrowed before Navin nodded and pointed his hand to the front of the van, pointing to himself and the right side of the van and then to Yasha and then the left side. Yasha nodded his agreement.

Yasha and Navin moved swiftly and quickly and before they knew it, they were forcing the doors open and shot the people inside. Yasha took control of the van once the people were dead and Navin kicked their bodies out of the van.

With a satisfying slam of the door, they both let out heavy sighs.

"Where to now?" Navin asked, wiping away at the blood on his face.

Yasha shrugged, changing gears and turned left. "We need to go somewhere to hide all those weapons," he jerked his thumb back at where the mass of weapons were lying. "We need to hole up somewhere where the guns won't be accessed by anyone except us. We need to be able to find information about those Avengers too. Why that enhanced woman called you Pietro and how she thinks she knows you," he continued, glancing over at Navin, who was looking tired and worried.

It was strange to see Navin looking so human.

"When we do, we can then find out what to do after. See if we should contact them and see if there is anything we need to know." he finished, then looked over at Navin before he reached over and put his hand on his. Yasha bit at the inside of his cheek, wondering if he had done the right thing before he felt Navin take hold of his hand properly.

"Yeah," Navin said with a nod, looking less worried, wearing a smile that was tired, but happy. "Let's do this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was particularly difficult to write but I ended up writing more than I thought. I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Hurt

Wanda had been in shock. It had terrified the others. She had just stopped functioning and none of them knew why.

Clint had led her back into the jet and into the tower. She had just sat in the nearest seat and had stared blankly ahead of her.

"Anyone know what she saw?" Tony asked, voice quiet as he watched Clint trying to get her to talk. Clint seemed to not have the best of luck.

Steve shrugged his shoulders, looking at Tony. "No. She either thought she saw something or it was too quick for us to see." Steve shifted his weight on his feet, face tense.

"Too quick?" Natasha said, eyebrow arched just enough for the two men to know what she was talking about.

They shook their heads, though their stomachs twisted with doubt. "Can't be," they said together. "He's dead," Tony continued, words foul on his tongue. "No way he survived the hit he took."

She simply gave them both a look, eyes easily making them question everything. "Who knows what he was fully capable of. He had enhanced homeostasis, what if that's not the only thing that was enhanced?"

"Natasha is right." Wanda said, voice heavy and hoarse. Tony and Steve jumped at her sudden words, but turned to look at her, concerned. "It was Pietro. He did not recognise me." Clint reached over and took a hold of her hand. Her trembling fingers latched around his.

The others moved forwards and sat on the couch opposite her and Clint, waiting for her to speak.

"He looked like he used to. Maybe a little more tired, older, maybe. But he did not recognise me. He was with this other man," Wanda frowned, the images of what happened flashing in her mind. "He just walked right past me, I - I grabbed him, I had to make sure it was him, that he was real -" the others shared an uneasy look, remembering the worse times when she had lost her brother. "And it was him, I could see him, feel the warmth under my hand, but he did not know me. The other man came up and pulled him away and then Pietro ran away with him."

Clint gave her a smile, even though it looked pained. "He's alive, that's what matters, alright? We'll figure out what to do soon."

"What did the other guy look like?" Natasha asked, voice level as she caught Wanda's eye easily. "We know what he looks like, we might know how to find him and your brother."

Wanda shrugged. "Had long hair, looked like he was going to kill me," her cheeks tinged a slight pink, "his jawline looked like it could cut a man. I think he had a metal hand?" she asked, frowning to herself as the memories played back in her mind. She nodded. "He had been wearing gloves, but it slipped, it looked like his entire arm might have been metal."

They looked over at Steve, whose eyes were cast downward, posture tense as trying to breathe suddenly became a lot more difficult for him. Someone put their hand on his back and he wasn't sure if it was Tony or Natasha or anyone else. How was this possible? How had both Bucky and Pietro managed to find each other? To end up possibly working with each other? Steve's head was hurting as he tried to think straight.

What the fuck had his life come to?

"Do you know who the man is?" Wanda asked, her words bringing Steve to his senses. He nodded, lifting his head up to look over at her.

"He's Bucky Barnes. Hydra took him, turned him into the Winter Soldier. If Pietro is with him, he might have been taken by Hydra and been turned into another Winter Soldier." he said and she nodded, leaning against Clint who wrapped her up in a hug.

What the fuck were their lives?

 

* * *

 

 

Navin held out the food to Yasha who took it silently, glancing over at Navin as he shut the door of the cabin shut. Navin sat beside him, hands moving over the guns quickly and efficiently, whilst Yasha ate the food, thankful for what Navin had stolen for them both.

"Have you eaten enough today?" Yasha questioned, looking over at him briefly before he turned his eyes back onto the fire, making sure it wouldn't die at the slightest breath of wind.

Navin nodded, finishing up with the guns before he was suddenly wearing a blanket around his shoulders, looking younger than he was. "I may need to get some more food later on in the night, but for now I think I am good." he said and Yasha nodded once, eyes still on the flames that tried to dance upwards.

He tried to keep his body relaxed as he felt Navin move closer to him, his blanket covered arm pressed against his metal one. "How do I know you?" Navin asked, cutting the silence that had been between them.

Yasha shrugged. "I don't know. All that I know is how to fight and you," he said, feeling his heart thudding in a strange way against his sternum. "They must have done something to our heads." Yasha said, looking down at Navin. The white haired man looked up at him, eyes wide with curiosity as he continued to stare at Yasha.

"Well, whatever had happened, I am glad it did so that I could meet you."

If Yasha blushed, Navin didn't say anything about it. "Ditto." Yasha said, voice quiet.

Navin made a little noise before he moved closer to Yasha (if that was even possible). It was almost surreal, how they were so close to each other, neither of them scared of what the other might be able to do to them. Yasha felt the urge to put his arm around Navin, hold him close. He didn't; there was something inside him that stopped him from doing it. What had surprised him was how Navin carefully put his hand on Yasha's cheek, fingers feeling calloused through the facial hair that had begun to grow thickly.

It was probably barely a second's worth, but it felt like at eternity. Navin had moved forwards, mouth pressed to Yasha's. His mouth was warm and Yasha went to put his hand on the back of his neck, only for Navin to have pulled away from him. They looked at each other for another moment before Navin was pulling Yasha close, pressing his mouth against his again.

What were they doing? They hadn't been programmed to do anything like that. All they had known - all they were meant to be, were killing machines. They were Assets -

And they were kissing.

Something about the whole act felt unbelievably human. It was sort of reassuring for them, to be doing something like that when they so clearly weren't and never would be human. The painful reminder that they were just Assets. Yasha pulled away from him, letting out a breath as his mouth twitched - he wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or cry. Navin looked at Yasha uncertain.

"That was wrong?" he asked, and Yasha blinked, confused at the heavy accent that had left Navin's mouth. Where did that come from?

He blinked again and shook his head, putting his hand on the back of Navin's neck, pulling him closer, their foreheads pressed together. "No. I think that was OK," he said, eyes shutting as he bit lower lip, trapping it between his teeth for a brief moment. "I just ... we were not programmed to do this."

Navin shrugged his shoulders casually. "Screw the programming. We could always reprogram ourselves?"

"How so?" Yasha asked, frowning as Navin's hands moved onto Yasha's shoulders, the movement casting the blanket aside.

"We do what everyone else does," Navin looked confused for a second. "Program ourselves to be human. Again? Were we human before we woke as Assets?"

"I'd like to think we were." Yasha said honestly. There was a beat of silence and Yasha made a motion and Navin nodded his consent and then Yasha was the one moving forwards, pressing his mouth to Navin's, the short gap that had between them pushed out of existence.

Navin clutched Yasha's shoulders tightly, before he wrapped his arm around his neck, feeling more alive than he ever had. It was almost painful how slow they both moved for Navin. He wanted things to go more quicker, more his _speed_. He made himself keep to the steady pace, letting Yasha take control.

Yasha made a surprised noise when Navin pulled him down with him. He pressed his metal palm down onto the wooden floor, letting it take most of his weight as Navin continued to kiss him, hands moving over him in a way that brought something to life inside of his chest.

They were so going to get caught by the higher-ups - they had to. They weren't supposed to be doing this, Yasha knew they weren't supposed to, that they hadn't been programmed to do anything like this. What was he thinking -

Well, whatever he was thinking was promptly thrown out of the window when Navin let out a filthy moan, pulling at Yasha's clothes. Yasha let him tug off his clothing, press his mouth against his chest and neck in ways that almost sent his heart hammering out of his chest. Neither of the pair particularly cared about anything except each other in those long minutes, kissing each other in such a hurried manner it was almost funny.

When Navin rolled them over, Yasha's back pressed against the floor as Navin leaned over him in some type of straddle; Yasha felt a laugh bubble up his throat, which turned into something else when Navin kissed him, sending chills down his back.

Afterwards, all Yasha could think was _poor floor_.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Navin said beside the window, watching the flurry of snow as he kept watch. Even though the sound was barely audible, he could hear Yasha's calm, steady breathing from where he was laid beside the fire, sleeping. He felt a smile tugging at his lips as he looked at the other man, feeling something in his stomach that made him both giddy and uneasy. He wasn't sure of what the feeling was, but he could tell it was good.

Glancing back at the snow outside, he knew that even if someone was out looking for them, they wouldn't be able to find the little log cabin they had huddled up in. He moved back towards Yasha, his hand reached out to touch the scarred flesh around his metal shoulder. Navin looked over at Yasha's face, only to see he was still sleeping, though was frowning slightly. Gently, Navin began to move his fingers across the scarred flesh, noticing how Yasha unconsciously moved into his touch, seeming to relax further.

He continued to run his fingers over the marred flesh, easing the tension and pain away from the area. It wasn't too long after he had done this, did Yasha wake up. Navin smiled at him, soft and tentative and Yasha leaned up, foreheads pressed together before he kissed Navin. It was short, chaste and it exhilarated Navin. As Yasha pulled away, he slipped his arm around Navin's bare waist, fingers splaying over the warm skin. They continued to sit together in silence, the only noise coming from the crackling fire beside them.

Eventually, Yasha broke the quiet. "That woman. She called you Pietro," he began, lifting his head to look over at Navin, who pushed Yasha's hair from his eyes. "What would that mean?"

"I do not know. I think I recognise her, but I do not know from where or how. I have been with you and the higher-ups since I was ... made? Born?"

Yasha shrugged, looking perturbed. "Your speed, I do not think they would have had the right tools to give you that enhancement. It could be possible you were born with those enhancements or you could have got them someway else." Yasha suggested and Navin nodded, the words running through his mind as he tried to remember any possibilities. He shook his head.

"I can't see anything, or figure anything out -" he bit his lip as blue lights flashed through his mind, the sounds of a woman yelling and red tendrils waved through his head. "A sceptre?" he asked, confused at the images that were suddenly flooding through, almost too quickly for Navin to discern. "I can remember sceptre, and a lot of blue?"

"It's something. Better than nothing." Yasha said, fingers squeezing at Navin's side reassuringly. "Can you remember anything else?"

Navin shrugged. "A woman - the woman we saw? - I think she might have been there, but I do not know why," Navin said, beginning to sound more frustrated as he continued to think and talk. "I do not understand why I cannot remember these things."

"The chambers?"

Navin blinked. "What about the chambers? You mean the cryo-chambers?" he shook his head. "I do not think it would have been that which took my memories. There-there was a chair, right?" Yasha's grip on him hardened and Navin mentally thanked whoever that it was his real hand and not his metal one. "You remember it too?"

"Yes."

The fire continued to crackle away as the two thought about the chair and the chambers and just how Navin's memory had been taken from him. Navin was confused; how had they managed to take his memories away? Why would they do that? Surely he would have complied anyway? He had so many questions that he wanted to have answered, but he didn't know if he wanted to hear the answers. He wanted to know who the woman was, how she apparently knew him.

Navin wanted to know why he didn't react to the name Pietro. Surely that had to be his name, of some kind? Had it been his before he had been Navin?

"Hey,"

Yasha's soft voice broke his train of thoughts and he looked up at him. "What?"

"You weren't looking too good there," he nodded down to Navin's hands, which had gripped Yasha's metal arm tightly, shaking so quickly they were a blur. "What are you thinking?"

Navin sighed. "I am thinking that maybe that woman was right to call me Pietro, but I cannot recall any memories of ever being called that." He frowned, wondering why that was the case. "They have messed my head up, and it is annoying. I want to know what happened, why I am like this, but I have no way of finding out; those people in the base are all probably dead."

They sat in silence for a few minutes again, unable to find any words that could help comfort Navin. "Yasha?"

"Yes?"

"What happened to your old arm? I mean, you have a metal one, do you remember if you had two human arms before or ...?"

He shrugged, not looking too bothered by the question. "Well, I don't remember how I got it. I just -" he stopped talking as his eyes glazed over and his face contorted into fear. "Steve."

"Steve?" Navin repeated, looking at him confused. "Who's Ste-"

"My friend." he said, turning back to look at Navin. "Why do I remember Steve but I don't remember anything else? I can - I can see him in my head, clear as day, but I can't hear what he's saying. It's like he's on a film reel, only the sound isn't on."

"Film reel? Yasha, they do not use film reel much any more." Navin said before he pressed the back of his hand to Yasha's forehead. Yasha, gave him a look and slapped his hand away.

"I'm fine. I just have a bit of a headache."

Navin snorted softly. "And since when do us Assets get headaches?" he asked softly, half joking, half concerned. "Maybe you should lay down?" he suggested, hand already going over to press against Yasha's bare chest.

Yasha let him push him back down onto the floor and set his gaze on the wooden ceiling above him, thoughts coming to a halt. He wasn't quite sure what to think and tried not to think; he didn't particularly want to think. From the side, Navin sighed before he got up and went back to the window, keeping his back to Yasha as he kept watch, despite both of them knowing he didn't have to. But being aware was good.

They kept to their own devices, Yasha staring blankly in front of him whilst Navin stared out into the darkness that was freckled with splatters of white. Yasha could feel Navin's energy building up from across the room. If Navin needed to go run, he would and would be back before Yasha had the time to realise he had gone. They both knew Navin's enhancement was getting more powerful; that he was getting quicker and time for him was getting slower. Eventually, they would have to try and find a way to stop it. It was either that or let Navin suffer with becoming too fast and leaving everything behind.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning, Yasha left Navin whilst he slept. He left him a note, telling him where he had gone and to not worry about him. He had to go and find out about the Steve that had made his way into Yasha's head. All he knew was his name, but that was more than enough for Yasha to work with.

He made it into the closet with ease, blending into the crowds. All he needed to do was find a source to the internet and hope he wouldn't be noticed. Getting into the nearest Apple store was one of the easiest things he had done over the past few months, slipping past people without bother. He got to the nearest MacBook and tapped it to life, pulling up an internet tab and typed in Steve Rogers.

Yasha frowned when he saw Captain America come up as one of the first few suggested links. He clicked onto images and felt a harsh breath get taken out of him. This was the guy who had been in his memories, but it wasn't? The man he was thinking of was skinny and looked like he could keel over at the faintest wind. This guy was not the skinny guy he was thinking of. But it was.

"You like Cap?" Yasha turned around and saw a man with long, blond hair, brownish beard and happy appearance. Yasha shrugged.

"He reminds me of someone." he said, already having found five different ways to kill this guy.

"Yeah, he's a relatable guy, I guess. I think it's the Americanism he gives off. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Yasha shook his head. "No, I'm just looking around." he said easily and the man nodded before he raised his lanyard slightly.

"Well, if you need anything, I've been Aaron." the man said before he moved away to aid another customer.

He rolled his eyes as the man - Aaron - moved away before he turned back to the screen.

For the next minute and a half he searched up everything on this Captain America, feeling a niggling in his chest that he didn't want to deal with. And then, of course, he found that he would be able to find maybe even more information on this Captain America/Steve Rogers in the Smithsonian. He quickly deleted the tab and left the store and set off to find the Smithsonian. (But not before he had stolen one of the laptops.)

Locating the Smithsonian was pretty easy, seeing how people wearing what looked like Captain America merchandise walked in and out of the building. Yasha had to take a deep, steady breath to try and ease away at the anxiousness and tension that was building up inside him. He was the damn Winter Solider, he was the first Asset. He could go into the Smithsonian.

Forcing his mental and emotional state to calm down, he took the steps towards the large building. It was full of interesting things, many of which the Asset knew he would have been interested in if he took the time to go and look at them; but he couldn't. He was on his own mission, he had to figure out why he knew this man, why he didn't know why he knew this man.

The Captain America tribute area was pretty much the grandest thing in there, people going there in droves. Like always, he found he was blending in to the crowds with ease, moving past and around them with no difficulty.

He saw the large images of the 'Howling Commandos', and felt something pull in his gut when he saw his own face plastered on the wall.

"What in the _fuck_?" he asked under his breath, eyes glued to his face. He knew it was him, he could tell. Only this version of him looked painted and didn't have long hair and a beard. He blinked and looked away from it, only to find another replica of his face and he turned his attention to it and saw that it was an exhibit on him. Or rather, who he used to be.

_When Bucky Barnes first met Steve Rogers on the playgrounds of Brooklyn, little did he know that he was forging a bond that would take him to the battlefields of Europe and beyond._

Yasha's mouth twitched as he stared at the words, unable to look at the next chunk of words that were beside it.

"Bucky Barnes?" he said, testing the words on his tongue. Something inside him roiled and he wondered if he was feeling déjà vu. Yasha - or whatever he really was called - didn't know what to think. His jaw clenched as he once again forced himself to calm down and read the rest of the information on the Bucky Barnes exhibit.

One thing he did know was that he needed to tell Navin this; he wasn't the only one to have gotten his memories taken away.

What worried him the most was that he had been born in nineteen-seventeen.

Heart in his throat, he retreated from the commemorate of what had been a past him; he had to get out of there, tell Navin about it, have him help to find out what this all meant. The words that had been written there running through his mind. This Bucky - he didn't want to say it was him - had fallen to his death when he had been on a train. How was Yasha alive if he really was this Bucky?

If he really was Bucky, how did he become the Asset?

  

* * *

 

 

 

"About ti- Yasha?"

Navin was beside him instantly, hands on both of Yasha's arms as he stared at the floor. He barely realised how much he was shaking. "Yasha?"

"I'm ... that's not my real name?" the words came out as a question, almost infuriating Yasha. "I could remember that guy, Steve Rogers. So I found out about him. Apparently I was his best friend," he tried to will himself not to cry, but his voice was unsteady and his eyes were far too warm. "And I fell off a train."

"You fell off a train?" Navin repeated and that new accent he had accidentally adopted washed over him, helping him to relax. "Do you have any memory of that?" Yasha shook his head, resting his forehead against Navin's. "Then we will figure it out. We will find out what Hydra has done to us and we will make them pay."

Yasha smiled, a huff of air coming out of his mouth in lieu of laughter. "Sounds like a plan," Yasha said before he felt surprising nerves in his stomach as he pressed his mouth against Navin's. The action lasted barely a second before Yasha pulled away. "We should get to work." Yasha said as he pulled the laptop out of his bag, holding it out to Navin.

"Of course."

Navin had to be the best hacker Yasha had seen. Yasha sometimes supposed that the man used his speed for those kinds of things; thinking of different ways to get into the software, of different ways to delete the firewalls and everything else Yasha didn't really understand.

As Navin continued to type away, Yasha got them food. Hunting had come easily to Yasha, having known how to kill things as far back as he could remember. When Yasha had brought back the deer, Navin hardly batted an eye as he began to skin and gut it. As he skinned and gutted it, Yasha let his mind wander, trying to recall any more memories of his time with Steve - or rather Captain America. But he couldn't. All he could picture was the man when all he had been was skinny and sickly. He'd barely read what had happened to Steve, but he had glanced it and saw parts; the little details of how he had taken a serum and it worked.

Yasha couldn't help but think of the guy as a stupid punk, and he didn't know why he had thought of him like that, or why those words felt natural when it came to explaining the guy, even though he didn't know him. But he did know him.

"Do not give yourself a headache." Navin's voice said, breaking through the thoughts that had been surrounding Yasha. Yasha looked over at him and gave him a tired smile. "What was on your mind?" he questioned, sounding too casual for him.

"That Steve guy," he admitted, feeling a little foolish.

Navin gave him a smile. "Should I be worried you will leave me for him?" he said, raising his eyebrows slightly, but his tone was joking.

"Never." Yasha said before he could stop himself. "I-I would never leave you. For anyone."

If Navin blushed, Yasha didn't make a comment on it. "That is nice to know. And I you." he said, before the laptop made a noise and Navin's eyes were back on the screen. "Found something," he said, beckoning Yasha over to him. Yasha did so, resting his hand on the back of Navin's seat as he leaned over to look at the screen.

Yasha read over the words on the screen, feeling like he was in a faux calm. "Are we going to stop them?" Yasha asked finally, turning his head to look at Navin. The other man shrugged. "If you say it's up to me, I say we're gonna go and stop them from killing the Avengers."

Navin nodded. "Then we stop them from killing the Avengers." The silence that followed felt heavy and tense.

So they were actually going to do that.

Huh.

"How are we going to do this?"

Yasha let out a breath of laughter. "No clue. Track them, probably. Figure out how they plan to kill the Avengers and when."

"Yasha?"

"Yes?"

"Do-do you think they would have tried to use us to kill the Avengers?" Navin asked, words making Yasha's stomach roil uncomfortably. Navin almost flinched away when Yasha's lips were pressed against his temple momentarily, taking Navin by surprise. He leaned into it, unable to stop himself.

"I think they would have. It is good that we got away when we did." Yasha said honestly. "You going to talk to that woman?"

Navin nodded. "Yes. I think her name is Wanda," he clicked open a tab, showing an image of the woman with multiple paragraphs about her. "Wanda Maximoff, sister to Pietro Maximoff," he took a deep breath. "That would be me. But I do not really recall much. She has unlimited powers apparently. And apparently I died - you are not the only one who has died and come back." Navin said, tilting his head to look up at Yasha.

"Would you want to talk to her?"

"I am not sure." Navin said, words slow. "If I saw her, I think I would refuse, but at the moment, while I know she is not here, I would say yes."

"You're nervous?" Yasha said, surprised. He stood up properly, eyebrows raised as he kept his eyes on Navin.

The man's lips twitched slightly as he turned to look back at the screen, deleting the tab of the woman. "That is a possibility." 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yasha held the rifle in his hands firmly, eyes scanning over the area as he watched the Avengers fight, working fluidly and easily. He would have said he was jealous, but he knew that really, he and Navin were able to work twice as well as them and there was only two of them unlike the Avengers team. They even had a god - occasionally. It was almost hilarious that two assets were better than a team of Avengers.

"They are here." Navin said in Yasha's ear. Navin had stolen some Bluetooth earphones for them. They were quite handy, albeit not to the standard they had been used to.

"Roger that." Yasha replied, adjusting the earpiece as he crouched, rifle secure in his arms. He looked down the scope, automatically looking at the Captain. Steve.

It felt like his heart had taken up residency in his throat as he saw the man fighting almost carelessly. Stupid punk. Navin and Yasha stayed radio silent, watching as the Avengers continued to fight. The Hydra agents didn't seem to waste their time in trying to kill the Avengers. So Yasha and Navin got to work.

Whilst Yasha sniped half the Hydra agents, Navin rammed into the rest, either hitting them full force with his full body weight, or just hit them as quickly as he could. Yasha refused to let his mind go blank as he continued to shoot all of those people that had tried to hurt his Steve.

His Steve.

Yasha saw Navin punch the last guy, saw the man didn't stand up, didn't move. They both knew he'd killed him.

"Pietro?"

The Avengers moved towards Navin, not quite surrounding him, but looking quite surprised.

"You're alive?" the archer - Clint Barton, Hawkeye, Yasha's brain supplied - asked of Navin.

Navin looked like he barely moved, but then Yasha was stood beside him, looking windswept and slightly dizzy. The rest of the Avengers stared at them, looking between Yasha and Navin with utmost surprise.

"Bucky?"

Yasha turned to look at Steve, something swelling in his chest as he stared at the man. "You're Steve," he said, internally thankful it hadn't come out as a question. And then Steve moved quicker than what Yasha or Navin had expected. He wrapped his arms around Yasha tightly, almost cutting off his breathing.

"Fucking hell, Bucky," Steve said, voice all thick and gravelly as he squeezed Yasha for dear life. Yasha caught a glimpse of the Iron Man armour coming down to the ground, the Black Widow, Natasha Romanov, coming around to stand near Clint.

"Pietro?" Wanda asked, moving to stand in front of Navin, eyes wide and watery. She held out her hand, looking all tentative, like this wasn't real. Navin stayed still as she walked closer still, and then her hand was on his cheek, warm and soft against his beard. "You ... you are actually here?"

"I - uh - I am Pietro?" he asked, frowning. "I mean, I know I am, I just ... I do not remember." he shrugged, gently pushing her hand away from his face, even though he didn't want to.

"Why do you not remember?" she asked.

Yasha pulled away from Steve, moving to stay behind Navin, hand pressed against the small of his back. Wanda turned to look at him, eyes scrutinising. "Don't blame me." he said, looking relatively unperturbed.

"What are your names?" Clint asked, stepping forward slightly, moving that little bit closer to Wanda; giving her that silent, solid reassurance.

"Yasha."

"Navin."

"Assets," Natasha said, walking around Clint and came to stand in front of them. "Hydra Assets." she added, gaze flickering over to Steve, who had let out a string of swear words, walking off to probably calm down.

"You are an Asset for Hydra?" Wanda asked, eyes boring into Navin's.

Navin shrugged. "We escaped," he said, looking at Yasha. "We came here because Hydra were trying to kill you all."

"And we're here to arrest you."

They turned around to look at Nick Fury and Maria Hill walking over to them, flanked by several agents.

"No." Steve said, meeting Nick half way there, looking determined to not let Nick take them. "You can't take them -"

"They confirmed they were Hydra Assets, so we need to confine them, until we're sure they won't go and kill everyone." Nick said and Steve let out a groan, tilting his head back as he probably tried not to punch Nick Fury in the face. "Besides, it's protocol to put someone on lockdown when they've killed one or more people." Nick added as the agents moved closer to Navin and Yasha.

Navin reached out, gripping Yasha's arm tightly, locking eyes with him. Yasha shook his head minutely, silently telling Navin not to run. The others began to make commotion as they tried to stop the two from being arrested. Navin let out a grunt as his arms were pulled behind his back. Wanda let out an angry yell, red swirls beginning to appear around them all.

"No." Navin said, turning his gaze on her. They locked eyes for a moment, and then the red had disappeared and a defeated look was on her face. Navin turned back to look at Yasha, both of them now on their knees, hands cuffed behind their backs.

Yasha was always fairly difficult to read; if Navin hadn't spent all his time with Yasha, he wouldn't have been able to read his face, the emotions and feelings underneath the façade. Yasha was scared and worried and Navin didn't blame him. They both knew they were putting blind faith in these Avengers and the memories they had regained.

It wasn't until Yasha and Navin were being pulled away into separate vehicles did things start to go wrong. Navin began to yell for Yasha, twisting in his restraints as he tried to break free, mixing his languages together as he tried to tell them to stop, that he didn't want them to separate them. They didn't listen to him. Yasha had reacted quite similarly; trying to break his arms free so that he could punch his way out, towards Navin.

And with a quick flash of red, both fell unconscious, dropping to the floor like stones.

Wanda stared at her brother in something that felt more than shock, unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed. She was vaguely aware of Clint hugging her to him, pressing a kiss to her head as they watched helplessly as Pietro and Bucky were carted off.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Ever think they were programmed to do this?" Nick asked casually as he leant against the wall, arms crossed as he kept his gaze on Steve. Steve barely reacted, instead remained looking through the two-way mirror to look at Bucky, tied up and looking at the table in front of him, unmoving. He had regained consciousness not too long after they had arrived, leaving him in that room with his own thoughts and nothing more than the chair and table he was seated at. Steve still knew he had his handcuffs on, but he wanted to pretend he wasn't.

"Programmed to what?" Steve retorted, finally turning his head to look over at Nick. The man looked as mysterious and dangerous as ever. "To be here, talk to us, get arrested?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders before he pushed himself off the wall, walking over to stand beside Steve. "A possibility among another million ones. What I had in mind was that they had been programmed to care about each other."

"They would anyway," Steve said dismissively, trying to think about the parts of Bucky and Pietro he had known and seen. They would have cared about each other with or without programming. "But I sense you have more to say."

"Of course. Ain't you worried about how they reacted? How desperate they were to stay together?" Steve said nothing, though his brow creased. "Did you also not see the looks on their faces?"

"I don't know what you're trying to insinuate -"

"I ain't insinuating anything, I'm saying they got programmed to love each other."

Steve heaved a sigh, running his hand over his face. "Can they do that?"

Nick shrugged. "If there was a possibility of them doing that naturally, I guess so. Have Banner take a look, or the boy's sister. They might be able to fix their heads." he said, looking at Bucky and wondering what the fuck?

Bucky simply stared at the top of the table, looking like a statue.

"What about Pietro? How's he been reacting?"

"He's still out of it. I think Ms Maximoff has been keeping his mind sedated," Nick gave Steve a look. "Probably to do with their super special mind connection that it makes it easier for her to get into his head." Fury said, waving his hands, mimicking Wanda's hand movements.

"I'm surprised she's handling this as well as she is," Steve admitted. "I don't know how to face Bucky."

"You can try by going into the room instead of lookin' through the window like a creep." Nick suggested, raising his eyebrow slightly. Steve let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head.

"Yeah, maybe." Steve sighed. "But being programmed to love? Sounds ridiculous,"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Nick said, looking rather unconcerned. "Haven't you seen the film _Old Boy_? They got conditioned and triggered into loving each other. That might be fiction, but the rules still apply in the real world."

Bucky raised his head, looking at the two-way mirror. "I can fucking hear you."

Steve lowered his head, looking like he was counting to ten again. Of course Bucky could fucking hear them.


	6. Unapologetic Assets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I fucking hate myself for having a terrible block on how to write this chapter and how really shitty it turned out. Hopefully I won't take so much time on the next chapter. College is also stressful and writing these chapters has become a little bit harder to do, but hopefully I won't be as bad next time.  
> Enjoy reading!

Navin wasn't responding. He wasn't responding to anything Wanda was doing. It was terrifying. It was like he was blocking her out of his mind; before, he had never blocked her out before, but that had been when he was Pietro and not Navin.

She sighed and sipped at her tea, watching the sun set outside of her bedroom window. She was wearing Clint's purple hoodie, the hood slung up over her head. The hoodie was warm and comforting, similar to the owner. She tried to ignore how her heart was tearing itself in half, a slow, painful process. She tried to hope that he would come back, but didn't want to get her hopes up too high; things never went her way and she never had any good luck. Wanda was lucky enough for him to come back as much as he already had.

The sunset was pretty, it was always something Wanda marvelled at. How could something so pretty be part of a world so dark and horrid? She tried not to think about all the horrors in the world, but it was hard to do so, especially when her brother had become one of those horrors.

She wondered if it was Pietro she would be seeing later, or if he would still be in the mindset of Navin. Maybe it was best if she didn't find out, if she simply stayed in her room for ever. Wanda sipped at her tea again.

Once she had finished her tea she sighed and stood up. The bones in her spine popped and she smiles briefly before she left her room.

Navin and Yasha, or rather Pietro and Bucky, were seated in the same interrogation room. Fury and Natasha hadn't been too fond of that whole idea, but then Natasha was saying it might be good for the two Assets, so they had to deal with the hand they were played. They had decided to try out different methods to see if it would help them in any way, and so far, they were testing out method fifteen.

"Bucky, do you remember me?" Steve asked, sat across from Navin and Yasha.

Navin glanced over at Yasha quickly, knowing that Yasha did indeed know this man. Navin knew Yasha's memories better than he did; knew how it was hard for Yasha to remember who he was. He knew how terrified he had been when he had come back from the Smithsonian, all confused about who he was and why he couldn't remember being Bucky Barnes.

"You're Steve." Yasha said. "I am .. supposed to be Bucky. But, I do not remember." he said slowly and Navin internally grimaced; it was going to be one of those days.

"And you?" Wanda asked.

She was sat beside Steve, looking tired and sad. Her question was clearly directed at Navin. He shrugged.

"I know you are supposed to be my sister and I know that I am supposed to be your brother, Pietro, but I do not recall any memories." he said, ignoring the hurt that flashed on her face. "Sorry." he said, grimacing.

"It is not your fault," she said, blinking quickly. "But you are supposed to be my twin brother." she added.

Navin didn't respond, looking at Yasha without really looking at him. Yasha was tense under his façade of calm. "What are you planning to do?"

"What?" Steve asked, eyes tearing away from Yasha to look at Navin.

"To regain those memories we have apparently lost. What will you be planning to do to get them back?"

Steve sighed heavily, leaning on the table. "We're not too sure yet. We want to try and have the simple things try and jog your memories," he said, looking unsure. "Anything, really." he admitted.

"What ... what if we do not want them back?" Navin asked, a slight frown on his face. He sensed Yasha shift, a soft change in the air.

They looked over at the two Assets, thinking of just how they would try and help them. Wanda wanted her brother back more than anything and to see this thing in her brother's body was tearing her in two. Steve just wanted his friend back.

"Then we will take certain things from you." Fury said as he entered the room, looking unconcerned. "We'll separate you two and see how you will deal with the idea of not being able to depend on each other and see if your memories from before will return to you without you two connected at the hip." he said.

Yasha simply raised an eyebrow at the man, thoughts of how Navin wouldn't agree with the mere concept of that. He didn't care any more; he was tired and just wanted to be with the people he cared about. "Navin." he said quietly, nudging him with his shoe. "It'll be fine," he told him, feeling odd and almost dirty by the Brooklyn twang that had appeared in his words. Navin glanced at him, looking as surprised as Yasha felt, but didn't voice it.

Navin didn't like this idea, not one bit. He knew he wouldn't be able to cope long; it was like he had been wired to be near Yasha or he'd go mad.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Navin had to break them out, this was fucking ridiculous.

Who the fuck were these people, to trap them like this? They'd complied and gone with them, but now there they were; stuck like animals. It wasn't right. Navin knew he and Yasha had to get out.

He was conflicted; he had gone to them because of what he was supposed to be, or who he had been, but it felt like they didn't understand that he couldn't remember anything and that he was different. It sucked.

Navin had planned for him and Yasha to break out at some time during the night, though he wasn't really sure when time was because of how there was no real sunlight in the room he was in. It reminded him of when he'd been trapped in the Hydra room and it had made him feel like shit and like he was going insane from the lack of use he had been. He tried to push it to the back of his mind for a later date, but it was kind of difficult when all he could think about was getting Yasha and getting the fuck out of there.

It didn't really last all that long; Thor had caught him trying to sneak out. He'd used his speed and had gone right into Thor's chest and the god had acted quick, dropping his hammer onto Navin who had dropped like a stone onto the floor, unable to move from the hammer on top of him.

"This is the dumbest way to have been caught." he muttered under his breath as the Black Widow and Fury walked over to him, the Widow with an injection in hand. She smiled at him before the needle had gone into his arm and then the only thing he knew was darkness. And then it was covered in red kinds of swirls. He found them comforting, like something he knew from a past life and he realised it was something the Pietro part of him had known.

Navin may have never admitted it, but the idea that he was something besides the Asset was a relief, and to see that he could steal comfort in something that might have been his was glorious. But it was kind of conflicting, his brain like a wreckage of a filing cabinet. Like usual, he tried to ignore the conflict until he could try and talk to Yasha (or was he really Bucky now?) about it.

When he had come to, he was strapped in a bed. He looked around the room and Wanda Maximoff was there, sat in a seat, a book perched in her lap, Hawkeye (Clint, Navin's brain supplied) beside her, twiddling an arrow between his fingers.

"Where is -" he began, but his throat ached and his tongue felt heavy.

Clint looked over at him as Wanda seemed to be unable to look at him. "If you're asking about Terminator, he's indisposed at the moment. Besides, we can't let you two be together yet, until the big guys upstairs give their say so." he said, shrugging his shoulders, looking unconcerned. Navin noticed the minute worry lines on the older man's face and decided that he didn't want to know because he wasn't allowed to ask, even though something inside him was telling him to.

"But ... we are supposed to be together. It is how it is supposed to be."

"Yeah, and I'm supposed to be asleep right now, we can't get everything we want just yet, kid," Clint said and Navin felt uncomfortable at the unfamiliar feeling that ran through him when the man had said the nickname so casually.

Navin's head was a mess and he didn't want to be awake. He almost cursed himself when the idea of sleeping in Yasha's arms became appealing and Wanda had chuckled quietly, having clearly read his mind. He sighed, eyes on the ceiling, counting all the weird grooves in it. He needed a distraction.

 

* * *

 

  

"Buck?"

Yasha shrugged. He was confused. He knew he was Bucky, but it felt alien to him. Like it was almost wrong. "Bucky?"

"I dunno," he said and wanted to grate his tongue for the weird accent that kept slipping in. It wasn't normal and it was Stevie's fault and he didn't know why he was callin' Stevie _Stevie_ , but it felt right and it scared him. "You were my mission." he said, changing the subject.

Steve heaved a sigh from beside him, but allowed the change. It was weird; Yasha hadn't expected him to do that. "I've been a lot of people's missions, but yeah, I was your mission,"

"I failed," Yasha said, hands clasped together, metal plates pressing into the soft skin. It was a weird contrast that he had long since gotten used to. "I was ... I was supposed to kill Navin as well. He was my mission, but I couldn' do it," he continued, hating himself because saying it made it real. "I failed that mission too. We escaped and then we realised our - our other identities." He looked over at Steve, frown creased in his face. "I can remember things, but sometimes it doesn't feel like it was really me. But sometimes it does."

Steve let out another sigh. "I think that's what happens when you have an identity crisis," he said and Yasha let out a laugh.

"I still don't want to kill you. I think that you should know that," he bit his lip, eyebrows furrowing together. "I know that you were my best pal and that you used to be ninety pounds worth of an asthmatic idiot who never turned away from a fight. You used to wear newspapers in your shoes and then you got the serum and it fixed everything. Best friends since childhood, right?" he said and Steve smiled, clasping his hand on Yasha's shoulder.

Only, it was Bucky's shoulder.

"Is there anything else you wanna say, or is that enough for one day?" Steve asked, voice surprisingly soft. "We could just sit around and try and get Fury to let us watch old war documentaries to see if you can regain some more memories?"

Yasha-Bucky shook his head. "Later. There's somethin' you might need to know."

"All ears, Buck," Steve said, leaning back into his chair.

"Navin was dead. Or, the Pietro part of him was. They revived him, it helped that he's got good healing factors. But I remember seeing them stickin' all sorts o' shit in him and then once the results came back, they tried to brainwash him. The Pietro part survived for so long. But I don't know if it's there any more after all the shit he got put through. I don't want his sister to have her hopes up high because they might have gotten rid of Pietro better than when they tried to get rid of me." Bucky said.

And then he realised he was Bucky and not Yasha and not a mix of the both or neither. He hoped he could stay as Bucky for a while.

"Thank you for tellin' me, Buck." Steve said and he nodded, trying to figure out how to file his brain into something reasonable.

The first thing he was going to do was tuck the Yasha part away so that no-one would ever have to see that fucker again. Once that was done, he was going to go to Navin and see if he coul help him do the same and bring back what could remain of Pietro.


	7. Jointly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, an update to this fic! Apologies for any and all typos/mistakes within this chapter.

Navin smiled as Yasha was sat beside him.

That was how it was supposed to be, of course, if Yasha wasn't looking so tense. Navin tried to keep himself calm and unworried. Yasha had to say whatever he needed to say and Navin knew he had to hear it. Whatever they were together, he knew he was supposed to hear it. The time apart from each other had been painful. But they were together now.

Yasha was kind enough to let Navin have a run around their room, doing the sweep of the room to check that it wasn't bugged and so that he could feel comfortable talking.

"I can control it," Yasha began and Navin tensed up, looking over at him. He was aware of the others looking at him, like they were waiting for his reaction. "I'm Bucky. I can remember near enough everything as Yasha," he lowered his voice, "feel everything I used to. But I know I'm Bucky, not wholly Yasha."

Navin nodded, chewing at the inside of his cheek. "That's alright. It was bound to happen," he said, slouching in his chair, trying to make himself relax. It was difficult to relax, hearing how Yasha-now-Bucky had managed to make such progress and yet he was unable to remember his life before.

"You know, I don't want it to change anything between us," he murmured, foot nudging Navin's gently. He looked over at him and offered him a not quite smile, a small twitch of the mouth.

"It does not have to," he said and tried to ignore how happy he felt when he saw Bucky smile. How was he supposed to deal with any of this? He was one of the world's best ghost assassins, and the best was right beside him, telling him he didn't want to change whatever they were. "What will you do now, with your progress?"

Bucky shrugged. "I was thinking about talking to Steve, see if I can regain more memories so that I can try and piece together something out of the two lives I've had. Become something better, I suppose," he smiles slightly. "I can see a ninety pound asthmatic Steve refusing to let the bigger guy get away with upsetting girls we knew and I'd always have to drag him away from the fight,"

"Sounds like you and Steve were good friends," Navin said. It was weird, Navin supposed; he had a twin sister that, before, he had been inseparable from, but he hadn't been able to recall any memories about that life, but Bucky was able to do just that because he had a best friend from before.

It sucked and didn't seem fair. But Navin ignored the envy, pushed it aside.

"What are you going to do?" Bucky asked, taking Navin out of his miserable musings.

"What do you mean?"

The other man shrugged, metal arm glistening as the light bounced off it. "I mean, what do you plan to do? To get your memories back, or go about living your life,"

Navin's mouth twitched, a quick movement that Bucky barely caught. "I do not know," he admitted, foot pressed against Bucky's as he stared at the floor, unable to look at him. "I feel like I have accepted that I will be Navin for the rest of my life, I cannot remember anything from before, and things have not worked in my favour when regarding my memories," he said, blinking several times. He shrugged his shoulders, forcing the hurt to bury itself.

“We can work around that.” Bucky said firmly.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next few days, they tried to help Navin to the best of their abilities. Navin was tentative in letting Wanda look into his head to see the extent of any damages left there. It ended up stopping when he started acting out like when he was first Navin.

“Why isn’t this working?” Wanda asked, blinking harshly. “It is so difficult to find where the damage is worst.”

Bucky wasn’t too sure how to comfort her, so kept his eyes on Navin – Pietro – whatever his name was. He was laid on the top of the bedsheets, white hair splayed across his damp forehead. “He … they tried fucking with his brain like they did with me,” he said, feeling a ghost of the pains just from the mere mention of it, “and maybe because he is different than me, it didn’t work as well as it could have.”

Wanda nodded, and looked far too hurt for Bucky to feel comfortable with. If he knew how to comfort her, he would’ve tried. But it was weird; after all this fuckery and he was capable of being in the right mindset, not the Yasha one, it was alien. But he knew how he felt about Navin/Pietro.

“Buck,” Steve’s voice said from the doorway. Bucky turned around and looked over at his friend. If having two separate minds in his head was weird, seeing his best pal all fit and healthy was even weirder. “You alright?”

He nodded, turning his gaze back to his partner (was he Bucky’s boyfriend? They never really said anything like that explicitly) as he woke up. He offered Bucky a smile, sitting up on the bed.

“How are you?” Wanda asked, wringing her hands together.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I feel that maybe I should stop going by the name of Navin?” he asked, eyes going to Bucky’s for a short second. “Pietro might be good.” Wanda smiled, all watery and sad and happy.

“My friends from the Strike team are coming to the tower today,” Steve said. The name sounded familiar to Bucky and Pietro, but neither were sure as to why. “They’ve got the clearance, but I can always cancel the meet up if you two aren’t alright with it.”

The two looked at him, unimpressed. “Steve, it’s fine,” Bucky said. “We won’t be there, right?”

Steve shook his head, much to their reliefs. “Unless you want to be,” he said. “You’re still gonna be under supervision, so if you meet them and want to leave, you’ll have to tell Clint and Wanda.”

Half an hour later, under supervision of Clint and Wanda, Bucky and Pietro were playing video games (mostly Minecraft because Clint said it couldn't make them want to kill anyone in the tower) on the games console in the communal area.

“Have you figured out why Strike is so familiar?” Pietro asked quietly, body tense against Bucky’s. He shook his head subtly.

“I guess if we see these people from Strike, it could bring some memory to light,”

“And if they’re bad people?”

Bucky turned to look at him. “We kill them.” he said simply.

The doors of the communal area slid open and Steve walked in, followed by three familiar faces. Pietro’s body tensed even more beside Bucky and the two were up on their feet, looking ready to fight someone. Clint was on his feet a second after, walking over to them, concerned.

Steve and Wanda looked at the two, speaking together.

“Bucky?”

“Pietro?”

Rumlow grinned at the two, face as ghastly as they could recollect. At his side, Darian and Dockers waved in faux good nature. Before anyone knew it, there was an ominous hissing sound and Wanda and Clint dropped down to the floor, choking. Pietro was by Wanda’s side as Bucky caught Clint, both unsure as to how to help.

Steve turned to look at Rumlow, Darian and Dockers, about to snarl something no doubt rude, but Dockers sprayed something in his face and he fell backwards, eyes reddening as he tried to spit whatever it was out of his mouth.

“Hello, boys.” Rumlow said, smiling mischievously. “Well, желание,”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve woke up disorientated and looked around to try and see Clint and Wanda through his blurry, reddened vision.

“Wanda?” he asked, dry heaving.

She made a groaning noise, letting him know she was still alive. “Clint is alright, I think,” she said, fumbling as she tried to get to her feet. “What happened?”

“I think – Rumlow. He did this,” he said, pissed. “Where’s Bucky?” he demanded, accepting Wanda’s hand as she lifted him to his feet. Once he was standing, and not swaying suspiciously, she knelt beside Clint and woke him.

“I’mma kill him,” Clint said groggily, getting to his feet. “Rumlow’s such a _prick_.”

An alarm blared loudly, shutters going over the windows, a red light flickering on. “I take it Stark has locked down the tower?” Steve asked, wiping at his eyes. His vision was still blurry and red.

“I think so.” Clint answered, grip on his bow tight. “Where’s Barnes and Pietro?”

Steve shrugged, helpless.

Barely a second later, he was flung across the area, back hitting the wall with a dull crack. Wanda raised her hands, her magic swirling around her as Clint prepared an arrow.

“Steve, you good?” he called, eyes scanning the area. Steve grunted his reply. “I think I know what’s happened,” he told Wanda lowly.

“I think I do too,” she said thickly. “I will kill Rumlow.” she stated, her eyes going red as the magic around her became more pronounced.

She let out a shocked noise before she was knocked backwards by something too quick to see. She tried to zap her brother with her magic to paralyse him, but he was gone before she could raise her hand.

“Oh, this isn’t good.” Clint said under his breath. “Yasha, Navin,” he called, jaw set. “We are not your enemies. Stand down.”

“You think that will work?” Wanda asked as she got to her feet a second time.

He shrugged. “Worth a shot, I guess.”

There was a flurry of movement and then Clint’s bow and his quiver were gone from his grip and he was in a chokehold, face going red very quickly.

“Pietro!” Wanda yelled as Yasha stalked towards Steve, the two beginning to fight. Wanda looked torn before she tried to hit her brother with her magic again.

“Do it and he’s dead,” he said, and it was truly Navin talking, not her brother, not the person who had tried to find the answers as to why he had been turned into what he had.

“Then why haven’t you done it already?” Clint asked, flipping a knife from his pocket, embedding it in Navin’s leg. He let out a grunt, releasing Clint from his grip as he removed the knife, but Clint had been quick enough, tackling Navin.

Wanda knelt down in front of him, did one of her hand movements beside Navin’s face and then he went slack in Clint’s arms.

Yasha was still fighting Steve. He was relentless. Steve couldn’t see any part of Bucky in the face that was so close to his. The metal hand was around his neck and he kicked Yasha’s knee, trying to disorientate him.

“C’mon, Buck.” he tried, kicking Yasha in the gut before twisting in his grip, hitting his metallic elbow to release the grip it had on his neck.

Yasha looked confused before it vanished, and he tried to hit Steve again, but there were red swirls going around his head and then he collapsed, body thumping to the floor.

Clint was the first to react. “What the fuck?”

Swearing under his breath, Steve pulled out his StarkPhone and pressed the button to call Tony. “Rumlow, Darian and Dockers are Hydra. Find them and lock ‘em up. They forced Bucky and Pietro to go Yasha and Navin on us.”

“Roger that,” Tony said, and Steve was too tired to notice the pun, and it appeared that Tony was in a too serious mood to even make a joke about it.

“Turn the lights on, turn the alarm off but don’t put the tower out of lockdown. We can’t let them get away.”

“On it.”

Steve hung up, then stared down at his friend’s unconscious form, thinking something along the lines of _what the fuck?_

 

* * *

 

 

Pietro woke up disorientated and pissed. How the fuck did that happen?

“I see you’re awake,” Clint’s voice said, and he looked around and saw him sat beside the bed he was laid on. “Is it you, or are you still Navin?”

“It’s me,” he replied, turning back to stare up at the ceiling. “Anyone dead?” he asked, jaw clenched as he braced himself for the worst.

Clint shook his head from the corner of Pietro’s eyes and he felt the relief sink in. He and Bucky hadn’t killed anyone. “What about Rumlow and the other pricks?”

This time, Clint sighed in response, which was enough for him. The two stayed silent for a while as Pietro tried to sort through his mind, trying to figure out what had happened. His memories were blurred and charred, like they had been damaged in a house fire. But he was aware that he was Pietro, though his counterpart Navin was still a part of him, as simple as breathing. The relationship with Navin was a complicated one, Pietro decided; it was often hard to discern between which one he was, and he supposed that Navin was stronger than he was.

But he was Pietro now. Navin was gone for now, sleeping, he supposed. The words that would trigger him would wake him up. Oh, man was he relieved to know that he could remember that a set of words could trigger the psycho counterpart.

“How is Wanda?” he decided to ask, having a feeling that she would be able to try and pick his thoughts and see what he had realised. He had to admit – to himself, at least – that he needed his sister, even if he had no recollection of her. Even if he was older than her, he knew she’d know what to do.

“A little upset but otherwise fine,” Clint answered. “She is currently with Cap and Barnes, aiding him in retrieving his memories. It appears that he is having more success than you.”

“I have … impressions of who you all are, what you mean to me,” Pietro said, trying to find the right word to explain it, because if he started speaking in foreign tongues, not only would Clint not know what the fuck he was talking about, but he’d probably think he was slipping into Navin. “But I cannot remember anymore than that.” He felt a tremor go through his body and he tried his best to repress it, but Clint saw it. Well, he lived up to his superhero name.

“You’re bursting with energy,” he stated, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “How are you capable of supressing it? You used to be a shaking bundle of it.”

Pietro pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying to string the words together. Sure, his English was good, but it wasn’t the best, especially after a Navin episode. “Hydra taught me many things, one of those is to suppress the energy until it is needed.”

This seemed to piss Clint off. “But you’re always full of energy, like some bratty child – which, you still fuckin’ are – but this ain’t right. This can’t be good for you, kid.”

He shrugged. “It probably isn’t, but I can keep it under control,” he said, trying to sit up only to realise he’d been cuffed to the bed. Why hadn’t he clocked that earlier? Some master ghost assassin he was.

“Yeah, like you can control Navin,” Clint muttered under his breath, but Pietro caught the words easily. “How does that whole thing even work?”

“Rumlow, he knows the words,” he said, but Clint still frowned at him, confused. “There’s a set of words in Russian that turn us into Yasha and Navin. He said them before, during the gas attack and then fucked off in the hopes that we’d kill you all.”

Clint didn’t look too pleased. “What can you tell me about these words?”

“I dunno. They’re … simple words? And once they’re said, then that’s it. We have no control over it. Our … counterparts take control.” he said, shrugging his shoulders, wincing slightly.

Faintly, the two could hear a yell, loud and harsh and sudden. Pietro tensed up, heart trying to carve its way out of his chest. What the hell was happening to Bucky? He turned to look at Clint, and saw that he, too, was tense, gripping his bow so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The two remained silent, awaiting the tell-tale alarm that Bucky had been set into the Winter Soldier mindset. It was so quiet that Pietro thought he could hear Clint’s heartbeat. Then –

Pietro could hear Bucky laughing. He felt himself relax as the sound steadily got louder, and he felt himself relax. Something good must have happened if Bucky was _laughing_.

The door opened, and Bucky, Steve and Wanda entered, all looking very pleased with themselves. Clint spoke first, before Pietro could open his mouth. “It worked?”

“It did,” Wanda answered with a nod. Even though she was smiling, there was something behind it, in her eyes. She turned to look at Pietro. “Bucky allowed me to search his procedural memory, and I was able to restore most of his memories. I was capable of fixing the hippocampus and restore the cortex where memory traces are encoded,” she said, and Pietro knew what she was going to say.

“Now it’s my turn?”

Bucky nodded, and Pietro bit his lip a little, worrying it between his teeth. Yes, Pietro wanted it, wanted to have his memories back; there was always the possibility that with the aid of his old memories, he would be able to have a better control over Navin.

“She also managed to get rid of most of Hydra’s control – we’re hoping that the words won’t affect me any more so that when it comes to it, I can just throat punch them or something.” Bucky said, successfully eliciting a quiet laugh from Pietro.

“OK. Let’s do this.” he said, and felt his ears turn red when Bucky grinned so broadly it looked like it could’ve split his face open.

They did it without an audience.

Clint and Steve had so kindly left Wanda and Bucky with Pietro. They had taken Pietro’s restraints away, now with Bucky nearly back to normal and Pietro’s trust in him (and Navin’s), it led to the idea that he would be able to keep Pietro at bay, and if needed, Navin, too. Though Bucky did look fatigued, and Pietro couldn’t blame him; he had gotten a lifetime of memories thrown back into his mind, and he thought that the idea itself would throw anyone off their feet for a few days at least.

“Are you ready?” Wanda asked, eyes glowing red a little, the swirls coming to life around her hands. Pietro nodded his consent, though his chest felt like lead. His right hand was taken in a flesh and metal one, and he felt himself relax. Bucky understood him like Wanda did, but just a little differently.

With a final look at Wanda, his vision turned red.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t peaceful, nor was it easy. There was a feeling of something plucking at his brain, like little fingers prodding instead of the shards of glass he had to endure once upon a time. It was a little reassuring to know that the person doing this was his sister. He was aware that he was stuck in his mind, though felt the soothing rub of a thumb on his right hand. It was a weird experience, to say the least. Like he was there in his body, but was far away in his mind at the same time.

But everything was coming up blank.

Parts of his brain felt empty, or burnt, like they had either been stolen or turned to ash in his head. It made something settle uncomfortably in his stomach. He had a good idea as to what his outcome would be, but he prayed that Wanda would find something of his that he could cling on to, to bring back a part of what he used to be.

The tugging moved all over his brain, chasing every neuron and made things ache a little. He was giving up hope, and he supposed Wanda could see it. But she wasn’t giving up. He could feel her determination as her presence within his mind got ever stronger, her power trying to bring something back from the brink. And yet his stomach couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling.

Even through all of this, he tried to find some form of comfort within the red. Red meant Wanda and Wanda meant safety and home and family. He knew red was connoted to danger and anger, but he was always reminded of his sister whenever he saw that colour, and he supposed he must have before he had to deal with his Navin counterpart.

One good thing, Pietro supposed, was how he could feel the tainted strings Hydra had placed in his mind were being eased away, tentatively. It was almost as if Wanda didn’t want to force it away, instead ease it away gently so that it wouldn’t cling to his mind and break him. As the last parts of it were taken away, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. He was worried, though, that the words could still control him, but with his mind free of Hydra’s hold, he very much doubted it.

After long last, the red vanished from his sight and her presence left his brain. Pietro blinked a little owlishly as he came to. The first thing he saw was Bucky’s worried, torn expression, then saw a matching one on Wanda’s.

“They fucked my head up too much.”

Wanda blinked back unshed tears as Bucky’s face shut down, getting rid of any emotion that could try and get through his mask. Pietro sighed, lifting himself up into a sitting position.

“I’m sorry,” Wanda whispered, and Pietro laughed – albeit a little sadly – before he pulled her into his side, hugging her tightly. “Your procedural memory is nearly fried, and there’s too much damage everywhere else to try and regain any memories. I think they’re all gone.”

“It does not matter,” he said, trying to be strong for his sister. He was older than her, twelve minutes older, so he had to be at least twelve minutes stronger for her. It made sense to him. “We can make new ones, yes?”

He felt the wetness sink through his clothing and onto his shoulder, and he tried to keep his own tears at bay. He did not want to cry in front of the two people who meant so much to him.

“Yeah, we can,” Bucky said, and Pietro detected more of that Brooklyn drawl that came with Bucky’s memories coming back. Pietro’s mouth twitched, and he tried to smile. Bucky understood and clapped a hand on Pietro’s shoulder, grip tight enough to ground him. “We will.”

And if the three of them silently cried together, it was only them who would know.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m glad they realised we’re not going to kill everyone,” Pietro said quietly to the darkness. “Yes, we are being monitored, but I suppose it is not so bad.”

Bucky made a quiet, snorting sound from his position beside him. “I suppose,” he replied, shifting his arm so that Pietro could be a little more comfortable. He was laying on the metal one, anyway. “At least it is only audio monitors and not cameras. I do like a little bit of privacy.”

Making a humming noise, Pietro turned so that he was on his side, staring up at Bucky’s face. “Tell me what you are thinking,” he said, words barely louder than a whisper.

“I am thinking that … regardless of your memories, or lack thereof, I am not going to leave you. We are in this together, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re one of the things that keep me sane – you and Steve,” he said, huffing something that could’ve been a little laugh. Bucky pressed a kiss to Pietro’s forehead. “I think we both need sleep; having our minds probed must wear us down eventually.”

Pietro laughed, clutching Bucky close to him.

Navin's mouth twitched, a quick movement that Bucky barely caught. "I do not know," he admitted, foot pressed against Bucky's as he stared at the floor, unable to look at him. "I feel like I have accepted that I will be Navin for the rest of my life, I cannot remember anything from before, and things have not worked in my favour when regarding my memories," he said, blinking several times.


End file.
